


Greasepaint

by Crollalanza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Gen, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-03 17:50:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2859644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Karasuno are approached to put on a fundraiser, one player steps up to the task. As Director, Ennoshita Chikara decides he’ll put on a pantomime. With an enthusiastic cast, he knows it could be a great success. But who will he get to play the Dame?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Haikyuu Secret Santa exchange on tumblr. I was writing for blamesynapses. 
> 
> Pantomime is a peculiarly British thing. It's daft, but fun and there are lots of songs. This fic is practically finished and will be 5 chapters.

 “I want it on record that this is the most stupid, dumbass idea I’ve ever heard of,” Keishin Ukai growled when Takeda approached him. “But, I’m guessing you think it’s important, so go ahead and tell the team, Sensei.”

***

“A show,” Daichi stated, his face locked in neutral. “The Dean wants us to put on a show.”

“It is a community project, Sawamura-kun,” Takeda said. He swallowed, not liking the calmness that the Captain was showing towards the request. “The Dean was contacted by the Volleyball Association because of Karasuno’s recent successes. Funds raised will be split between the club and other volleyball teams.”

“So we’re supposed to put on a show, forgoing practise and jeopardising our studies to help other teams in the prefecture.” A muscle started to twitch in his cheek. “Our rivals, most of whom have far more money than us in the first place!”

“No ... No ... Sorry, I didn’t explain clearly,” Takeda stuttered. “The money will support grass roots clubs. In this case, Little Tykes.”

“It’s still a ridiculous idea,” Daichi said, his eyes sliding towards Ukai. “What’s your opinion, Coach-san?”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t say no to the money. But ...” Ukai took a deep breath. “In my opinion, doin’ well in Nationals is more important.”

“So we say no.” Daichi stared round at the team, half daring anyone to disagree.  Then he felt a tug on his arm.

“Daichi, we should think about this,” Suga murmured. “Sensei wouldn’t have put this to us without a lot of thought.”

“Suga, we have to practise. I am not forgoing a single session for the sake of a show!”

“You won’t.” Takeda said swiftly. “In December, in the run up to Oshogatsu, students are given projects to work on. These can be vocational – some students decide on ceramics or motor mechanics, for instance. A community project will take the place of other curricular subjects.”

Hinata and Tanaka’s ears pricked up. “What’s that?”

“Typical,” muttered Tsukishima, smirking a little.

“The more vocational subjects, I should add. The core curriculum will stay in place,” replied Takeda, smiling a little at their sudden enthusiasm. “I would also like to say that while no one is compelled to take part, for the team to benefit, at least half of you would need to be involved.”

Suga, after glancing at Daichi, cleared his throat. “Then perhaps, as a team, we need to take a vote.”

***

“Why are so keen on this idea?” Daichi muttered to Suga.

They were walking towards Sakanoshita after practise, a practise where the team had voted (eight to four) in favour of putting on the show. The pair of them had lagged behind, sending the others on ahead, and Suga knew why.  Daichi was obviously not happy that the show would go ahead, and he especially wasn’t amused that Suga had voted yes.

“We need to relax, Daichi-san. Think about something other than volleyball and classes. This will give us another focus as a team, don’t you think?” He grinned. “Besides, if I’d had to take a course in Ceramics again, I think I’d have smashed up the pottery room.”

“If this eats into practise time...”

Suga laughed. “You think Ukai-san will allow that? You heard Take-chan, rehearsals will take place during school hours.”

“Well-” Daichi hunched his shoulders and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I’m not getting up on stage.”

“Sure,” Suga murmured, deliberately not smiling.

“I’m NOT!” he insisted.

“Daichi, getting up on stage might be the easiest thing you can do.”

They stopped walking, hovering just in front of the store. Inside the others had gathered, the Coach making them drinks and heating up pork buns.

“How d’you figure that?”

 Gotta be better than directing,” warned Suga. “Don’t get dragged into that, okay.”

***

It was the following day, before registration that a usually reserved figure approached them. Suga looked up from his bag, to see Ennoshita standing in the doorway. Not just Ennoshita, for in front of him was Kiyoko, who beckoned to them both.

“Daichi,” he muttered, nudging his friend. “We have visitors.”

“Daichi-san. Suga-san.” Ennoshita bowed immediately as they approached. “I ... er ... I wanted a word, before practise.”

“Mmm, go ahead,” Daichi replied.

“This show.” Ennoshita gulped, then after taking a breath, he squared his shoulders and faced his Daichi. “I do not want to tread on any toes, and obviously as Captain you have the final decision -” 

“Uh ... spit it out, Ennoshita, classes are starting soon,” Suga said, smiling.

 “Daichi-san, I know as Captain you should obviously be overseeing this show,” Ennoshita began. He gave Kiyoko a quick glance, and she smiled encouragingly.  “I would very much like the chance to ... to ...”

“Get on with it,” Daichi growled.

“I want to direct the show,” Ennoshita finished. “I have had some experience, and this would be very useful to me.”

“Useful?” Suga asked.

“The second years are currently studying British culture and customs,” Kiyoko put in. “Remember it was on our curriculum last year?”

Both Daichi and Suga nodded.

“And I’ve always been interested in theatre, films, that type of thing,” Ennoshita continued. “I think that by putting on a particular type of show, then I can gain credits not only for myself in English and Media, but for the other second years that take part.” He swallowed. “It might even benefit the first years.”

“And some of them need all the help they can get,” Kiyoko murmured, with a small smile.

“So, Daichi-san, Suga-san, obviously this is your decision and I understand if you feel you want to take charge because after all, you two are the mainstays of the-”

“Enough!” Both Suga and Daichi spoke, raising their hands.

“Sorry, have I been rude? I don’t want to cause-”

“Ennoshita!” barked Daichi, making everyone in the vicinity jump. “You can be the director. You can be the producer. You can write the thing. You can be the star of the show! I leave this all in your incredibly capable care. Call on me if you want help, but both Suga and I have complete confidence in you. Okay?”

“Uh ... really?” Ennoshita smiled, the expression changing the whole aspect of his face even making him look awake for once.

“Yes, yes, really,” Suga replied, slapping him on the back. “Now, get to class, and we’ll see you at practise.”

They turned away and walked back to their desks, exchanging grins and sighs of relief. In Ennoshita Chikara’s hands, the show would not only go on, but they could both take a back seat and relax.

***

Chikara’s hands were, at that moment, cradling his head as he pondered the enormity of what he’d taken on. True, he was excited, and this was what he wanted to do, but there was also the problem that perhaps he was being too ambitious. To gain extra credit, to truly meld this show he not only had to take control, he had to persuade the others to take part.

And that could be a problem.

“Might I join you, Ennoshita-kun?”

He looked up; his mouth went dry. “Sh- Shimizu-san, o-of course,” he replied, and picked his bag off the seat next to him. “Um, I must say thank you again for coming with me when I went to see Daichi-san.”

Kiyoko waved her hand in the air. “I only showed you which class he was in, and I was intrigued with your ... determination.” She pressed  her lips together. “Do you know the type of show you want to direct?”

He nodded, somewhat warily. “I want to do this,” he said, and pushed a book towards her. “It fits with the curriculum, the time of year and I ... think it will be fun. But...”

“I spent a December in London once, about three years ago, and I know this genre.” She frowned slightly, but he didn’t think it was from disapproval. “You’re worried about participation, aren’t you?”

“Uh... yes, a little. I’m not sure what their reactions will be.”

“Hmm,” she murmured as she flicked through the pages of his book. “Well, you can count on my support, and ... if what you say is true, that the second-years will be able to gain extra credit on a core subject like English for taking part, then I’m sure between us, we can persuade them, Ennoshita-kun.” She pointed at the cast list, her fingers finding two characters, and then she smiled. “Tanaka and Nishinoya would be perfect, don’t you think?”

Sighing, he took the book from her. “Yes, they would, but do you think they will?”

“With the right persuasion,” she replied, and got to her feet. “I’ll see you at lunchtime practise, okay?”

And then she left, and the only sign they’d had this conversation was the swirl of her faint scent in the air around him. He closed his eyes, taking heart from her words. If anyone had power over the two most troublesome second-years, it was Karasuno’s manager.

***

“Pantomime? What the hell’s that?” demanded the Coach. He studied the book Chikara had handed him. “And ... uh ... Cinderella, that’s a fairy story, ain’t it?”

“Mmm,” Chikara nodded at Ukai, and turned back to the team sitting in front of him. “I’ll keep this short as I know you want to get changed and back to class, but Daichi-san has agreed that I can be the director for the show, and I thought it might ...” He licked his lips, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. “I have decided that I would like to put on a Pantomime. It’s a tradition in the United Kingdom at Christmas, and as it fits into our curriculum this term, it would be beneficial- certainly for the second-years – and thus-”

“COOL!” Nishinoya was already up on his knees, excitement splattered all over his face. “So I could be the Prince, yeah. And ... uh ... Cinderella, that’s gotta be you, eh, Kiyoko-san?”

“Well, um, that’s the thing,” Chikara jumped in before Tanaka could start arguing his case for being the Prince. “In Pantomime, some of the roles are reversed. So ... uh ... Cinderella’s step-mother, for instance, and her step-sisters are ... um ... played by men.”

“Huh?”

“And traditionally,” put in Kiyoko, “Prince Charming is played by an actress wearing men’s clothes and ... um ... boots.” She flushed turned her face down, suddenly finding the floor fascinating,  but then slowly recrossed her legs.

It stopped even Nishinoya from speaking. He froze, and all Chikara could hear was a gargled noise from his throat.

“It’s an ambitious idea, Ennoshita-kun,” murmured Takeda. “And I have every confidence in you, but do you think you have enough people to cast this properly?”

“I need nine cast members for the main parts,” replied Chikara swiftly. “And then there are a few minor parts, which could be played by children, so we can ask at Little Tykes. Narita’s working on the script, but there are enough in the team for me to be able to-”

“No.” Tsukishima met his eyes. “I will not take part in this. A pantomime, acting, won’t help me in the slightest.”

“Great,” muttered Chikara, through gritted teeth. He’d expected some opposition but not quite so soon, or quite so bluntly. His gaze wandered to Yamaguchi, expecting him to refuse, too.

Asahi coughed, his large dark eyes stared up at Chikara in apology. “I’m sorry, I really do not want to appear on stage, but if there is any other way I can assist, Ennoshita-kun, then I am willing.”

Fine, Asahi’s gentle refusal was to be expected. And he was good with his hands, so maybe set design was more his thing.

“I WILL!” shouted Hinata, wriggling around on the floor. “I’ll be in this. I know this story, my mum used to read it. I could be Cinderella, or the pumpkin, or one of the footman, or a mouse, or ... anything. I could be a tree. Or the castle, or -”

“We get the message, dumbass,” growled Kageyama. He frowned at Chikara. “I’m not sure about this.”

“Acting not something the King does, eh?”

“SHUT UP, TSUKI-”

“We need at least half of you involved,” Takeda interrupted, and stared across at Tsukishima and Kageyama. “Involvement doesn’t have to be on the stage.” Pausing, he turned his attention to Chikara. “You could open up the auditions, maybe get the girls’ volleyball team onside. They would, after all, benefit if we raised enough money for a mini-bus...”

“GIRLS!” Tanaka grabbed Nishinoya. “The girls’ volleyball team. Here. Rehearsing. Soooo cuuuute.”

Nishinoya screwed up his nose. “Yeah, kinda cool, but, Chikara-san, why ain’t there some more manlier roles? Chicks aren’t gonna dig a dude in a dress.”

“You’d be surprised,” Suga said, turning around and giving both Tanaka and Nishinoya the benefit of his mega-watt smile.

“Huh?”

“Just ... well, the whole sport thing isn’t really working for you,” Suga said. “Maybe the girls need to see your more ... uh ... sensitive side.”

“Suga-san could have a point,” Nishinoya said, nodding. “Ryuu, what d’you reckon?”

“Well ... er ... I dunno ... I s’pose we could ... er ...” He shrugged. “Yeah, okay. Chikara-san – we’re in!”

“Nicely done,” Chikara heard Daichi murmur to Suga.

“Hmm?” Suga stared at him, his eyes wide with innocence.

“Getting those two interested,” he whispered. “We can take smaller parts now especially if some of the girls join -”

_Ah, that’s how it is ..._

“Oh, well, actually,” Suga replied, then he raised his voice. “Ennoshita-kun, I would rather not be on the stage, but I do play guitar and could ... uh ... help if there’s any music.” He smiled slyly at Daichi. “Daichi-san would love to act, though.”

‘You git!’ Daichi mouthed, then with a grimace he faced Chikara. “Something small. I don’t want to have a lot of lines to learn, but count me in.”

_That’s eight if I can persuade Yamaguchi and Yachi,_ Ennoshita thought. _And if the girls join us, and I can rope in some kids from Little Tykes then ..._

“Thank you,” he said and bowed at them all. “I’ll hold auditions on Saturday.”

***

The next three days passed reasonably easily. Takeda had contacted Little Tykes and they’d promised to put up a poster Yachi had created. Narita was working on the script, tweaking the original to add some local jokes for the audience, and Chikara had tentatively started to cast people in his mind. The way he saw it, he needed three strong actors, and the rest only needed to be enthusiastic. There was Cinderella, , Buttons – her faithful friend – who needed the presence to be able to hold the audience’s attention, and finally the Cinderella’s stepmother ... the Dame. Not only was the role traditionally played by a man, but it had to be the type of man who could carry off the part, belt out a song, and get the audience riled. It had to be someone mature, too. Chikara’s thoughts drifted to the Captain, then he shook his head. Daichi-san was mature, but there was something too stoic about him and Chikara couldn’t see him loosening up enough to enjoy the part. Kinoshita was a possibility – he certainly had a good voice – but he was also a good pianist and with him and Suga together, they could work with anyone they rustled up for the chorus.

That left ...  Packing up his bag, saying goodbye to his parents, Chikara left for the gymnasium, making a detour along the way.

“Ukai-san.”

Ukai didn’t even bother to look up from his magazine. “No.”

“You don’t know what I’m going to ask you yet.”

“There’s only one reason you’d turn up here without the team. I ain’t being in your show, Ennoshita.”

“But, Coach-san, please I just need-“

He closed the magazine and lit a cigarette, taking a deep lungful. “Look, kid, I’m a shop clerk and volleyball coach, I ain’t an actor.”

“Well, neither are the others,” Chikara replied, swallowing nervously.

“Uh-huh, but they can skip lessons, so they ain’t complaining.”

“Of course. I’m sorry.” Chikara sighed and gave the coach a bow. “I should have thought. You work and coach, I can’t expect any-“

“I’ll make the scenery, okay? I can hammer nails into wood, and paint backgrounds. Will that help?”

Chikara turned back to face the coach. “Thank you, that would be a help, and any time you can drop in, Ukai-san, I would appreciate it.”

“Huh? What difference will that make?”

“Uh ... I’m the director, but I’m ... um ... not sure I have ... uh ...”

“You want authority, Ennoshita-kun, you gotta earn it. Some of those kids might be yer senpais, but they’ll knuckle under if you crack the whip.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you the director?”

“Uh ... I offered, so went to see Daichi-san, and he let me-“

The Coach let out a cackle of laughter. “Let you!  _Let_ you. Sawamura bit off yer hand as soon as ya offered, didn’t he?” Chikara nodded and stared at the ground.  “Hey, that ain’t a bad thing, just keep it in mind, Ennoshita-kun, that you’re the one who wants to do this, and even the third years have to respect that ... okay?”

 

Getting to the gym, Chikara was relieved to see a decent turn out. The team, even Tsukishima, had turned up, plus Yachi, Kiyoko and a few players from Karasuno Girls.  One he recognised from his class, a tall girl called Hoshi, who played Wing Spiker. He gritted his teeth; she wasn’t someone he particularly liked, and he was surprised she was here, as they never spoke in class, but then again, she was gazing across at Suga with large puppy dog eyes.

“Ah, our esteemed director,” called someone.

He looked to the back of the group and breathed a small sigh of relief, Michimiya Yui, former captain, was talking to Daichi. That could be another reason the girls had turned up. Michimiya might not play anymore, but the team still admired her.

“I have some... uh ...” His voice rasped as they all stared at him. He coughed once, then again before finally freeing the lump that seemed to have lodged in his throat. “I have some audition pieces here and I need you to try a song with Sugawara-san.”

“Singing?”

It was Hoshi, one hand on her hips as she stepped forward. “Which characters sing?”

He didn’t like the determined look in her eye, but couldn’t fault her enthusiasm. “There’s a chorus, and most characters will sing at some stage, but mainly Cinderella and Prince Charming.”

“Then give me the Cinderella sheet and nothing else,” Hoshi demanded. “I’m a good singer. I’ve been having lessons for years.”

“I’ll hand out pieces to everyone,” he said, ignoring her. “There are other parts, but this is really so I can get a feel for people’s voices and how well you work with each other.” Chikara frowned, scanning the group. “Where’s Hinata?”

“I’m here. I’m here!” shouted Hinata and ran through the door. “Sorry, Ennoshita-san, I wanted to be on time, but I couldn’t bring my bike and had to take the bus because ... uh ... well ... I had to ... um ...” He stopped speaking, looked back over his shoulder and then dashed out of the door. “Natsu-chan, come on.”

“Huh?”

Hinata reappeared, but this time not alone. Holding his hand and staring up at everyone was a small girl. Her hair was a paler red than his, and her features were delicate, but there was no doubting the likeness, especially when she smiled.

“I took the bus because Neesan isn’t good with bikes, and she ... uh ... wanted to come along.” He smiled at Chikara. “You said you wanted little kids in this, and once I told Neesan, she got really enthusiastic, so ... uh ...”

“I can dance!” Letting go of Hinata’s hand, Natsu started to twirl around. “And sing,” she trilled.

“She’s been in school plays,” Hinata added.

“And she’s utterly adorable!” Michimiya cooed and wriggled her way to the front. She winked, a little slyly, and crouched down beside Natsu. “And will act the rest of us off the stage, I think.”

Hoshi snorted. Clearly about to say something, she was stopped only when Michimiya turned her gaze onto her, she closed her mouth, the set of her lips turning to a sneer. It was the sort of expression that Chikara found oddly familiar, but couldn’t think where he’d seen it before. Whoever he was reminded of, he wasn’t having the girl dictate his auditions.

“Natsu-kun, you are very welcome to join us. There are some other kids coming along later, but if you’d like to stay and watch, then please do.”

She gave a bow, and then flashed him a smile. He couldn’t help smile back.

“Hinata, you get yourself a script,” called Suga from the side of the room. “Natsu-chan can sit with me.”

Natsu earned herself a glare, and not a smirk this time from Hoshi, as she ran happily across the hall to where Suga was unpacking his guitar.

After that, the auditions went comparatively well. Chikara split them into small groups, even getting Kageyama to read, although he spent most of the time telling Hinata to calm down. Tsukishima stayed at the back, his music apparently on, but every so often, Chikara caught his eyes flickering across to Yamaguchi and occasionally Hinata, as if he was trying to fathom why on earth they were doing this.

“You can join in if you want,” Chikara said, tapping him on the shoulder. “You might think you don’t want to act, but it could be fun.”

Removing his headphones, Tsukishima cast him a side glance. “Yamaguchi wanted support. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

“That’s a good reason,” he replied. “Shame you can’t be here for every rehearsal, though, if Yamaguchi needs you.” He quirked a smile at Tsukishima, deciding to try a different tack. “And ... uh ... working on a community project really will boost your credits in class.  I think that’s the reason Kageyama’s here, although he’d probably be happier with something like ... um ... working the lights...”

At that Tsukishima shrugged, he made as if to turn away, but then tilted his head back, and met Chikara’s eyes. “I won’t act, but I am good with electronics. If I take on lighting and sound effects, then I can make that part of my vocational credits.”

It was both self-serving and selfless, Chikara thought. Tsukishima was taking part to benefit himself rather than the club, but he was also putting in the effort to help his friend. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Ennoshita got to his feet and muttered a brief thank you before walking across to Suga.

“Is he going to help?” Suga asked.

“Yep, Lighting and Sound,” he replied. “I didn’t even have to suggest it. Well, not directly.”

“I thought he might,” Suga said, and picked up his guitar. “Hey, Natsu-chan, what song should we play for them all to sing?”

She reeled off a stream of Disney songs, pop songs, tunes from TV shows, all the while singing little bits of them whilst Suga picked out certain chords, the pair of them smiling at each other.

 

It was about a quarter of an hour before the Little Tykes children were due to appear, that Chikara found himself trying not to bang his head repeatedly against the wall. His search for his female lead was proving harder than he’d hoped. Hoshi didn’t have a bad singing voice, but for all her talk of experience was as a wooden as a broom handle. Yachi had been so nervous she could barely stammer out her words. There was Michimiya, not a great actress but she tackled everything with enthusiasm. And the three other girls had all declared they only wanted chorus parts. Which left Kiyoko, but Chikara had already earmarked her for the Prince.

There was no Dame. Out of all the males there, only Daichi had a certain presence, but he couldn’t sing – it wasn’t that he was off key, more that the key to which he sang hadn’t been invented. Yamaguchi was too self-conscious, Hinata – completely wrong for the role, and Kageyama was so monosyllabic it made Chikara wonder why he was there at all. He chewed his lip. Noya or Tanaka might have been able to pull it off, but it was obvious to everyone that they worked best as a pair, bouncing off each other in a way that would reduce the audience to fits. Perfect Ugly Sisters, except both were saying ‘NOPE’ every time Chikara suggested those parts.

 “No one’s gonna get this role reversal thing. Why can’t we be the Prince and this Dandini dude?” Nishinoya demanded, casting nervous glances at the girls sitting close by. “Like, I’d be a great Prince.”

“No, I would!” Tanaka countered. “Noya’s too short. Can’t have Cinderella taller than the handsome Prince!”

“He’s got a point,” muttered Suga. “If you’re casting Kiyoko-san or that second year girl, you need someone reasonably tall. Also ... it’s not a fun role, is it? Maybe ... Daichi?”

“Prince Charming has a duet,” Chikara said pointedly.

“Ah ... okay, who’s left to sing?”

“Just Yachi and Hinata. Oh, and Kageyama – if he wants to – but he really doesn’t look comfortable up there.” Chikara replied, chewing his lip. “Yachi looks very nervous.”

“Get them to sing together,” Suga suggested. “That way you can assess her voice, and ... well ... if she’s good, she’ll overcome her nerves.” He paused to retune his guitar. “It’s odd Kageyama’s here, don’t you think? It’s like he wants to be a part of this, but doesn’t understand how to get involved.”

Fixing on a smile, Chikara turned back to his would-be cast, and gestured to Hinata and Yachi. “Can you sing together?”

“Uh ...” Yachi began to shake.

“SURE!” Hinata shouted. Taking one of Yachi’s hands, he started to shake it up and down.

“This should be fun,” Hoshi drawled. “How is this first year expected to sing, when she can’t even speak? She just squeaks!”

“Yachi,” Suga said, cutting across Hoshi. “Do you know this?”

He played a few chords of a Disney tune Natsu had been humming. Yachi listened a while, then gripping Hinata’s hand, she took a breath.

“ _L- Look at this st-stuff. Isn’t it n-n-neat?  
W-W-Wouldn’t you think my collection’s com-_ ” she sang, her voice quavering.

_Come on,_ Chikara thought. _Come on, because you have a voice, just get through this._

She faltered. Suga slowed, nodding to her, but her lips were quivering.

“ _Wouldn’t you think I’m the girl,  
 the girl who has everything!_ ” bellowed Hinata. 

He grinned at her. “Come on Yacchan. We can do this!”

She took a breath and stared at him. Then suddenly a smile lilted on her face. “Can we go straight to the chorus, please, Suga-san?”

His face expressionless, Suga switched chords and suddenly Yachi’s voice soared.

“ _I wanna be where the people are._  
 I wanna see, wanna see them dancing.  
Walking around on those,   
(whaddyer call them) oh, feet?”

“ _Flippin' your fins, you don't get too far  
Legs are required for jumpin', dancin'_ ,” Hinata joined in with exuberance.

“ _Strollin' along down a  
(What's that word again?) street_.” They finished together.

Suga stopped playing and started to clap. A moment later, Daichi and Kiyoko joined in, followed by Kinoshita and Noya enthusiastically cheering and Tanaka whooping. At the back of the group, Yamaguchi was watching, his face lit up with a smile. Only Hoshi looked put out, but then, Hoshi must have realised as soon as Yachi got into her stride, that this was her competition.

_There’s my Cinderella! And ... Hinata – I’ve got just the part for you._

He smiled. The first few parts were falling into place. Maybe he didn’t have to be quite so rigid with the whole role-reversal thing. Maybe two of the girls would play the step-sisters. Maybe he could persuade Daichi to step up and be the Dame. He could bellow out a song and no one would care how bad his voice was.

“Very sweet, but isn’t that a song from The Little Mermaid?” a voice cut right through from the door. “I thought Karasuno were putting on Cinderella.”

_Uh ... what the..?_

“This isn’t an open audition,” called Chikara, trying to remain calm, but his palms were sweating. “It’s Karasuno members only.”

“What the hell do you know about the Little Mermaid?” shouted another voice loaded with irritation.

“I have an older sister, Iwa-chan,” said the first speaker, turning his head slightly.  “Surely you can’t have forgotten that seeing as she’s the reason we’re here – in a roundabout way.”

“Oikawa!” Glowering, Daichi strode towards them. “Why are you here?”

“Fu fu, Sawamura-san, what a pleasant greeting. Would you believe I’m here to wish you well?”

“Nope.”

Oikawa sighed and raised his eyebrows. “But this all looks so .... _interesting._ Is this your gymnasium? How ... quaint. _”_

“Yeah, well, if that’s all you’ve come to say, then you can leave now. This is Karasuno property and you shouldn’t be here.”

“Hmm, I have this, though,” Oikawa replied, and handed Daichi a flyer. “Auditions, it says, held here on Saturday. It _is_ Saturday, isn’t it?”

“For the kids, Oikawa. Not for you. This is a Karasuno event.”

Oikawa’s lips twitched. He stepped further into the hall, then propelled a small boy forward. “My nephew, Takeru, he wants to act.”

“No, I don’t!” the boy snarled. “You said we had to come here. I want chocolate.”

“Enough!” Oikawa snapped. “Your mum thinks this will be good for you, Takeru, so you are going to audition.” He smiled graciously at Daichi, then his eyes slid to Hinata and Yachi, still standing near Suga, their mouths open in shock, before sliding across to Kageyama in the centre of the room.  “You really should be putting on Snow White and the Seven Dwarves? Tobio-chan – you’d be so perfect as Grumpy. And Shrimpy over there. What do you reckon, Iwa-chan – Dopey?”

“HEY!”  A small ball of fury raced across the hall. Twice as fast as a speeding train, and with four times the power, she hurtled up to Oikawa, and kicked him on the shin. “THAT’S MY BROTHER!”

“NATSU!” Hinata yelped, and running for all he was worth, he scooped her up and pulled her away. “You can’t kick him. He’s the Grand King!”

“He’s a big bully!” she yelled, and wriggling out of Hinata’s arms, she ran back to Oikawa and kicked him again.

Oikawa yelled, and hopped in the air. “OW! GAH, what is this, Chibi-chan’s bodyguard?”

“Quit whining, you deserved that!” snapped Iwaizumi, scowling at Oikawa as he stalked inside. He bowed his head to Daichi. “Sorry, his sister does want her kid to take part. He’s not lying about that.”

Chewing his lips, Chikara finally took a step towards them. “If Takeru wants to be involved with the rest of the children, then he’s welcome, but if he really doesn’t want to take part then I would rather you leave.” He smiled a little wintrily, deciding that Natsu really did have the right idea how to tackle Oikawa.  “I could write you a note for your sister, if you’d like, Oikawa-san.”

He heard a snort of laughter, or rather two snorts, one from Daichi and another from Iwaizumi, who was struggling to keep his face straight.

“We’re not staying. I didn’t want to have to bring him here for every rehearsal, anyway,” Oikawa huffed, rubbing his shin and glaring at Hinata as if it was all his fault. “I’ll tell my sister –”

“No!” Takeru squeaked, his mouth agape as he stared at Natsu. He tugged on Oikawa’s sleeve. “I’ve changed my mind, Tooru, I want to take part. Can I?  Can I?  Can I?”

“Huh?”

Iwaizumi grinned. “Takeru’s got a new hero, Oikawa-chan. And she’s much cuter than you.”

Making a sound like a hurrumph, Oikawa stomped to the side of the hall, pulled out his phone and proceeded to ignore everyone there. Iwaizumi, after another brief smile, strolled across to sit by his side, but instead of a phone, he pulled out a book and started to read. Warily, Chikara moved back to his cast. There was still time for more children to arrive and he still had work to do. He could rethink this, cast two of the girls as Ugly Sisters, maybe make another the Dame.

It wouldn’t be traditional in the British sense, but maybe he could pass it off as a reinvention.

Noya was actually not a bad actor, and his voice was passable. The added bonus was that Yachi was shorter than him, so ...

_That leaves_ ...

He clicked his tongue. Fairy Godmother had to be a female. Although, could he make it a genie? Would the audience care if he crossed this with Aladdin?  Would there be an audience? He wasn’t sure at all now. Should he just give up, admit he had no chance at all of pulling this off, and concentrate on something smaller? Just get Yachi to sing, or Natsu to dance. Maybe they should all play volleyball – He pressed his lips together trying to top the hysteria escaping into a manic laugh.

“Kageyama,” called Suga. “Would you like to try singing now?”

Brought back to reality, Chikara lifted his head to watch the exchange, at the same time noticing Oikawa suddenly paying attention.

“No,” Kageyama replied shortly.

“But you’re here, Kageyama-kun,” Suga persisted gently.  “You turned up for the audition, and this might really help with your English and Cultural Studies course.”

 “What’s the matter, Tobio-chan? Not scared are you?”

“Assikawa, shut up! Get back to your dumbass game.”

Kageyama stared at the wall, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have come. I don’t want to act.”

“Will you help backstage?” Chikara said, grabbing him by the arm.

He nodded, then slunk away to the side of them room, pulling out a volleyball magazine from his bag, but Chikara noticed it was upside down, and Kageyama’s was once again looking at nothing.

Whether he’d have sung if Oikawa hadn’t turned up, Chikara wasn’t sure, but he had no time to contemplate it. He twisted around, and bowed.  “Okay, can I try something different? Daichi-san, please will you read for the Dame? Noya and Tanaka, try the Prince and Dandini. Hoshi and ... uh ...  Michimiya-san – the Ugly Sisters.”

“Wow, thanks,” Michimiya replied, but she was grinning, and snatched up a script.

“Uh... this isn’t a small part,” Daichi said. “Ennoshita-kun, I can’t take on something this big. Really, I can’t. Stick me in the chorus, or-”

“Not with that voice,” Suga piped up, grinning wickedly. “C’mon, Daichi, just read for it.”

“You keep out of it,” Daichi reproved, glaring at his vice captain. “Ennoshita, seriously, I’m not-”

“Not comfortable, Sawamura-san,” Oikawa interrupted. “Hmm, why’s that?”

“I don’t have the time,” Daichi persisted, ignoring Oikawa. “Look, you’ll be better off casting someone else. I can’t take this on, what with school, college applications –”

“Sounds like someone’s making excuses,” Oikawa said, his voice both mocking and sing-song. He got to his feet. “Scared you can’t take the pressure, Captain-chan.”

“And leading a team to Nationals,” Daichi finished, his voice clear and his stare directly on Oikawa.

It had the desired effect – if the effect desired was to seriously piss off Oikawa. His grin turned to a grimace. He froze to the spot and his eyes narrowed. Even from across the gym, Chikara could see his face blanch, whether from anger or shock, he had no idea, but Oikawa was rattled, which made Chikara wonder all the more why he was here.

“Then shouldn’t you be leading, instead of messing around, Captain?” Oikawa said steadily. “If Seijou were in your place, there’s no way we’d be wasting time on something so ... _mundane_.”

“Mundane?”It was Suga speaking, a note of anger faintly underpinning the question.

“If you were serious about Nationals, you would be using this ... this ...gymnasium for practise.”

“We will be,” Suga said, forestalling Daichi with a quick flap of his hand. “We’re all here two hours earlier than we have to be, Oikawa, and the reason we’re involved in something so mundane, is precisely because we’re going to Nationals.”

Oikawa blinked, possibly he hadn’t expected Suga to respond, and certainly not in such biting tones.

“What do you mean?” Iwaizumi asked.

“We’re not an elite school,” Suga said bluntly. There was no bitterness; he was merely stating a fact. “We don’t have the same funds available that you do at Aobajousai. This is to raise money.”

Iwaizumi raised his eyebrows and resumed reading his book, but even as he looked at him, Chikara saw his brows creasing and his eyes weren’t at all focused on his page.

“Karasuno don’t pay for you?” Oikawa asked. “But you’re Miyagi’s representatives. That’s absurd.”

“They pay some, but we’re a small club in a large school with a lot of better represented clubs,” Daichi interjected. “We will get there. We’ve qualified after all. Just ... don’t think we don’t care about being the Prefecture’s representatives, Oikawa, because we do, _very_ much.”

“And you think this is the way to do it?” Oikawa replied. His gaze swept across them, starting with Daichi, taking in Suga before resting on Chikara. “You can’t even get a cast together. I think you realise, don’t you, that this is far too ambitious. You should have a cake sale instead.”

“Be fair,” Iwaizumi murmured. “They’re doing the best they can with limited resources.” He shrugged, looking for all the world as if he really didn’t care but there was a small spark of light in his eyes. “It’s not like you could do any better.”

“What are you talking about?” Oikawa retorted. “I’m an excellent actor. Remember the play last year. I was ... superb. Everyone said so.”

“Meh, your girlfriend at the time was the one writing the review. Not exactly an unbiased opinion, was it?” Looking past Oikawa, his eyes rested on Chikara, giving him a small fleeting smile. “Not much of a challenge, Oikawa, playing to your fans. And the male lead. But easy, wasn’t it, for someone who’s apparently so good at acting.”

“Are you saying I can’t act?” Oikawa snapped, his hands on his hips as he swivelled to face his friend.

“I’m saying it was easy when the audience were sympathetic and the part was literally written for you. It wasn’t even acting, just you up on stage singing a bit and showing off.”

“I WAS BRILLIANT!” he said, tossing his head.

Suga and Daichi exchanged glances. Chikara saw a tiny incline of the head from Daichi and then Suga got to his feet. “I’m sure you were,” he said over-sweetly. “What a pity no one outside of Seijou got to see your talent.”

“Yes, well, I could act all of you off the stage,” Oikawa replied, running his hand through his hair.

Hoping he was right, that he hadn’t in anyway misread his Captain and Vice, Chikara forced a smile on his face, and sighed. “Ah, well, there’s no way of proving that now, is there?”

“Convenient,” Daichi scoffed, and gave the slyest of winks. “Okay, Ennoshita, give me a script and ... uh ... why not try Kageyama? He did very well earlier-”

“Convenient? I’ll show you,” Oikawa shouted. He strode across the gym, making the trip in three strides, grabbed the scripts from Chikara’s hand, and stalked up to the front. “Sugawara, is your repertoire restricted to insipid Disney tunes, or do you know this?” He scribbled something on the script, and tapped his foot waiting.

“Uh ... yeah, it’s better with a piano, but I think I can manage that ...”

“Right, then when you’re ready!”

“Oikawa,” called Daichi. “Ennoshita doesn’t have time for this. You pissing us around just so you can sing a song or two and waste -”

“Waste your time? WASTE YOUR TIME!” Oikawa’s eyes gleamed with a glorious rage. “I’m auditioning, Sawamura.”

“Um... but you’re not part of Karasuno,” Chikara put in.

“Yes, but I _am_ still a member of Little Tykes! I volunteer there, so I have the right, according to your flyer, to audition.” He paused, took a breath, and then smiled in a far more conciliatory manner. “Unless, of course, you decide that I have no talent, but I’m trusting you to be unbiased.” A beat later, he turned to Suga. “Okay, Mr Refreshing, start slow and then ... keep up!”

With a slight smile, Suga adjusted his guitar, rested one foot on a chair and began to strum. Chikara frowned, not immediately recognising the tune, but it appeared that Kiyoko did, and Iwaizumi, because both took steps closer to Oikawa.

And then, with a wicked grin, he shimmied towards Kiyoko, opened his mouth and started to sing

“ _Where have all the good men gone  
And where are all the Gods?_ ”  

She held his gaze, not blushing or quivering, or doing any of the things the other girls were, as Oikawa, still smiling, swirled around her. With a back glance, he raised his eyebrows at Tanaka and Noya.

“ _Where's the street-wise Hercules  
To fight the rising odds?_ ”

Possibly deciding Tanaka’s intentions weren’t friendly, he whipped away, leaving Kiyoko and focussing now on Iwaizumi.

“ _Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?_ ” he sang tremulously. Giving him a smirk, as Iwaizumi acknowledged the line with an exasperated sigh, Oikawa turned to the left, and stepped over to Kageyama, tugging at his magazine.

“ _Late at night I toss and I turn  
And I dream of what I need..._ ”

Scowling, Kageyama snatched it back.

“Ah, Tobio-chan doesn’t want to play.” Oikawa pouted, then yelled, “Hit it, Sugawara!”

Nodding Suga upped the pace, his fingers shifting furiously on the guitar, as Michimiya and the volleyball girls clapped out the beat.

“ _I need a hero, I'm holding out for a hero,  
“'Til the end of the night_ ,” Oikawa crooned, his voice echoing around them as he scanned the gym for his next prey. Licking his lips, he pointed directly at Daichi.

  
“ _He's gotta be strong_  
And he's gotta be fast  
And he's gotta be  
 fresh from the fight.”

Daichi stood firm, unflinching, but a muscle was going in his cheek as Oikawa ruffled his hair, and laughed, and stared closer, placing his hand on Daichi’s shoulder.

“ _I need a hero,_  
I’m holding out for a hero   
til the morning light  
He’s gotta be sure  
And it’s gotta be soon-“

“WE GET THE MESSAGE!” Daichi shouted, and shoved Oikawa away. He took a breath, and glared at Suga, who’d continued playing. “You’re good, Oikawa. You’re very good. But it’s not up to me, and how do we know you wouldn’t just wreck this for us?”

“He wouldn’t.” Iwaizumi’s voice cut through the air. “Jeez, you have a bad opinion of us, Sawa-”

“Iwa-chan, leave it. They think I’m the bad guy here, I get that, but ...” And suddenly all the mockery was gone.  “Little Tykes is important to me, and you need a cast.” He paused and swivelled to face Chikara. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name. You’re the Wing Spiker who stood in for Sawamura, aren’t you?”

“Uh ... yes. I’m Ennoshita.”

“You did well.” Oikawa inhaled swiftly. “And now you’re the director, so you’re obviously someone that relishes a challenge. So I will say to _you_ , Ennoshita-kun, that if you want, I will be in your show.”

Chikara gulped, and prayed his uncertainty wasn’t leeching onto his face. This could backfire, big time, not least because Tanaka was itching to punch Oikawa’s lights out, and Kageyama had withdrawn further into himself. But if this worked, with Oikawa’s talent and fanbase  ... “Oikawa-san, there is one part -” He stopped speaking, glanced towards Daichi, who gave him a small nod of approval, then swallowed. “It’s the Dame. Cinderella’s step-mother.”

With a sinking heart, he waited for the refusal, because surely Oikawa wouldn’t take on a part that was not the romantic lead, but the Seijou Captain gave him a smile. “Well, I have the legs for it, so ... why not?”

“Ewww, Tooru, you’re not gonna sing that song, are you?” chirped up Takeru. “It was kinda lame.”

“Oh my,” whispered Michimiya and fanned her face. “I think rehearsals just got interesting, girls.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chikara makes decisions, Suga seeks outside help, and new cast members are introduced.

The song at the end can be found [here](http://youtu.be/l5aZJBLAu1E)

 

* * *

 

“You think this is a good idea?”

Noya glanced up at his friend and nodded. “Come on, Ryuu. If Oikawa-san can get away with wearing a dress, then we can.”  Pausing, he fiddled with the sleeve of his gakuran. “And Chikara-kun needs us.”

Chikara sat opposite the pair and held his breath. If they would just agree ...

“I thought you wanted to be the Prince,” Tanaka said.

“He’s kinda boring,” Noya said. “Ugly Sisters have more fun.”

Tanaka frowned and stared across at Chikara. “Who’d play the Prince – you’re not getting anyone else in from Seijou, are ya?”

“No, no,” Chikara reassured him. He smiled, deciding now was the time to play his trump card. “I’m going to stick to the original intentions of the pantomime and ... uh ... cast a girl.”

“Who? Not that Hoshi girl. She’s up herself!” Noya protested.

“Hot, though,” Tanaka said, and gazed ahead lost in thought. Then he shook his head. “Sorry. I don’t like her much either. Always callin’ me out for bein’ dumb.”

“Kiyoko-san’s agreed to take the part,” Chikara replied. “I think she and Yachi will work well together.”

They both gaped, no doubt remembering Kiyoko talking about boots and re-crossing her legs. Tanaka stopped moving, his throat seemingly constricted, and it was left to Noya to restart the conversation.

“Uh ... there’s a Ball in the story, ain’t there?”

“Mmm.”

“So ... do the Ugly Sisters get to dance with the Prince?”

“Uh ...” Chikara hesitated. It wasn’t in the plan, because he didn’t want to stage the whole Ball, and he hadn’t talked it over with Kiyoko.

“Nooo, I can’t do that.” Tanaka’s face blanched. “I ... I ... I .... no, it’s bad enough bein’ in the same room as her. You have no idea the ... the exquisite pain and ecstasy I go through when she ignores me. Havin’ to dance, to hold her, to ... I gotta pull out, Chikara. This ain’t gonna work.”

Laughing, because he reckoned Tanaka must have been watching something really soppy on TV to be using words like ‘exquisite pain and ecstasy’, Chikara clapped his hand on Tanaka’s arm. “You won’t have to dance with her. So ... can I count on you guys?”

Noya exchanged a look with Tanaka, gave Chikara a beaming smile and winked. “We’re in, Chikara-san. This is gonna be a blast!”

“I knew it. Thank you,” Chikara got to his feet and shook both their hands. “Really, I’m so grateful. I wanted you guys from the start, you know, and I think you two will really work well together, and bounce off the rest of the cast.”

“The rest of that cast _does_ include that pretty-boy, yeah?” Tanaka had resumed scowling. “He’s gonna be a prick, you know that.”

“Mmm, I know, but he’s good, and he’s offered.”

“And you trust him?”

Chikara bit his lip and faced Noya. “Uh... yeah, I do actually. I think he’s sincere about Little Tykes. Whether he’s sincere enough to not wind up Kageyama and everyone else is another matter, so ... uh ... can you guys help me out there?”

“I can thump him if that’s what ya askin’,” Tanaka muttered, flexing his hand before furling it into a fist

“Oh no, just ... um ... try to not let him wind you up.” He leant forward. “Be the bigger man, Tanaka-san.”

 With that, he got to his feet and left them in the school cafeteria. It was only when he reached the corridor that the muscles in his shoulders relaxed, and he began to breathe. He had his cast, and while it was going to piss some people off, that couldn’t be helped. All he needed now was the strength to get through a month of handling Oikawa.  He reached for his phone and started to compile a text.

_Cinderella – Yachi Hitoka_  
Buttons – Hinata   
Ugly Sisters -Tanaka and Nishinoya  
Stepmother – Oikawa Tooru

 He hesitated, praying his Captain would agree because this part wasn’t chorus, but he needed someone mature to keep Oikawa in line.

_Baron Hardup (Cinderella’s father) – Sawamura Daichi  
Prince Charming  - Shimizu Kiyoko_

Chikara took another breath, hoping his instinct wasn’t wrong, but the next person had done well at the audition and he didn’t make a fool out of himself every time Kiyoko spoke to him.

_Dandini (PC’s friend) – Yamaguchi Tadashi_  
Fairy Godmother – Michimiya Yui  
Chorus/Villagers/Ball guests – Mamura Hoshi, Kitu Suzu, Mori Umeko

Hoshi would object. And at the back of his mind, he knew that if he’d got on with her, then he might have given her a better part. But he needed a cast that got on well, and Michimiya was far more amenable in a group than Hoshi.

He hit send, and ran to hide in the library.

***

 

Having a free period, and being a third year, meant Suga was allowed a certain amount of freedom. Giving Daichi the slip, he hurried out of the side gate and caught the bus into town. He hoped he wouldn’t be long, and could get back before practise started. Rehearsals had begun, and whilst things were in the early stages and chaotic, Suga was reasonably impressed with the way Ennoshita was handling himself.  Hoshi had – predictably – not been pleased with a minor part, but after being told she was the lead chorister, and would need extra music rehearsals, she’d soon calmed down. It had helped that Ennoshita had glanced Suga’s way at that point and there’d been a glimmer of a smile on his face. Suga had not liked that look, and had liked it even less when Hoshi had walked up to him at the end of the rehearsal, leant close, and asked when he was free.

“I can work outside rehearsals,” she’d murmured. “You could ... uh ... come over to mine.”

“Um ... I don’t think that will be necessary. I’m sure the music department will let _all -”_ he’d emphasised the ‘all’ and gestured to the other girls, “of us in during the day.”

So Hoshi had accepted a lesser role, Daichi a larger one, and although he was grumbling over learning his lines, Suga could see how much fun he was having and knew he’d been right in his reasoning that the show would help relax the team.

The only cloud in this so far harmonious activity was the looming presence of Oikawa, and how he impacted on the rest of the cast. It wasn’t that he’d been particularly arrogant, at least not more than Suga had expected, but he had the same aura he carried with him onto court and that had a double-edged effect. Yamaguchi was almost too scared to speak, although he had no scenes with the Dame. Michimiya was being an altogether far too friendly Fairy Godmother (Suga didn’t think it was serious, she was generally a friendly person, but it wound up Noya and Tanaka to see Oikawa flirting with such ease) and Daichi spent most of his time pushing Oikawa away when the latter told him they really had to act like husband and wife.

But it was Kageyama that Suga was worried about. Ennoshita had asked him to help backstage, to take notes of things he thought might be useful. It had been something Ennoshita had taken on board because he’d realised, as had Suga, that Kageyama had wanted to be involved. So, even though he didn’t have a part, he still turned up and sat sullenly watching the action. He’d run lines with the other first years, even helping Daichi a few times, but his expression would close off whenever Oikawa appeared, and he’d shrink as if not wanting to be noticed. And Oikawa, being Oikawa, loved to rile him. So he’d ask, in sickly sweet tones, if ‘Tobio-chan’ was feeling all right. He’d beg him to take care, or plead with him to run lines with him. Kageyama had agreed once, but after Oikawa had laughed when he mispronounced a character’s name, he’d got to his feet, given his former senpai a stiff bow, and stalked out of the gym.

Suga wanted Kageyama to stay involved. He felt it was important; he didn’t know why, but there was something about his increasing isolation – especially as Hinata was having a whale of a time and keeping the rest of the cast energised – that wrung at Suga’s heart. Having Oikawa at _his_ school, in _his_ gym, on _his_ territory was obviously affecting Kageyama far more than anyone had thought possible. And that pained Suga to his core.

Hopping off the bus, Suga crossed the road, took the first left and hurried to the cafe. He waved to the boy sitting at the table, and received a curt nod in reply. _Okay, I’m going to have to play this by ear,_ he thought, and after buying a coffee, plastered a smile on his face and made his way over.

“Iwaizumi-san, thank you for agreeing to see me,” he began.

“I had a free, and was moderately interested that you wanted to see me,” Iwaizumi replied. He scowled. “No idea how you got my number and if you’re asking me to be something in your bloody show, the answer’s no.”

“Oh ... uh ... No, that’s not really why I wanted to see you,” Suga said. He dipped his spoon in the froth of his cappuccino, and lifted it to his mouth. “Oikawa gave Ennoshita your number, by the way.”

“What? Why? Why would he do that?” Iwaizumi protested, but not sounding the least surprised.

“Something about always being able to get hold of him,” Suga replied mildly. “Uh ... anyway, it is about Oikawa and the show I’m here, but I’m not trying to ... um ... recruit you. At least, not for the show.”

“Go on, Sugawara, and get on with it, will you. I do have to get back to school at some stage.”

“Well, it’s ... um ...”

“It’s about Oikawa,” Iwaizumi interrupted. “Is he winding up the rest of the cast? That’s just something you’re going to have to deal with. He does that. It’s his way, and ... sorry to tell you this ... but it works.”

“Um, actually, it’s not that bad. He’s riling Daichi a little, but ... uh ... I guess that’s par for the course. And Daichi can handle himself.”

“So ... unless he’s flirting with too many of the girls and that’s upsetting your teammates, I don’t know what the issue is and why you want to see me.”

Suga sipped his coffee. Then, placing the cup back carefully on the saucer and licking his lips, he stared straight into Iwaizumi’s dark eyes. “It’s Kageyama. Oikawa won’t let up on him, and I ... uh ... we don’t know how to get him to stop.”

“Kageyama’s not in the cast is he?”

“No, but he’s helping backstage,” Suga sipped some more coffee. “I’m worried about him.”

“He needs to fight his own battles,” Iwaizumi said, and laughed. “Oikawa’s a prick at times, I’ll give you that, but he gets off on the shouting. Tobio saying nothing will only make him worse.”

“And you’d have taken on your senpai, would you?” Suga demanded. “Come on, Iwaizumi, Kageyama’s in an appalling situation. He wants to lash out, just as much as he would with Hinata or Tsukishima, but he can’t, can he?”

Iwaizumi shrugged. It was a shrug that said ‘it’s your problem not mine’, but there was also something wary in his eyes, the possibility of guilt pricking him.

“You knew him at Junior High, didn’t you?” Suga persisted.

“Yeah, I knew him - and Kindaichi and Kunimi. Not a bad trio.”

“What was Kageyama like?” Suga probed.

“Uh ... talented, eager,” Iwaizumi smiled at something, a fleeting memory, Suga thought, and then he sighed. “He loved playing more than anyone I’ve ever met – and that includes Oikawa.”

“When he first turned up at Karasuno,” Suga murmured, “he told us he’d do everything by himself.”

Iwaizumi chuckled. “That sounds just like Oikawa! I had to whack that out of him.”

“It obviously worked. He’s very good at motivating your team, isn’t he? Kageyama doesn’t have that skill – not yet, anyway.”

“Very clever, Sugawara-san.”

“Hmmm?”

“Getting me to sympathise with Kageyama. Drawing neat parallels between our two Setters.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re smart, but I don’t like being manipulated, so tell me why you’re really here before I leave.”

Suga cleared his throat, the time for plain talking now here. “I want your help. Daichi and Ennoshita don’t know I’m here because I’m pretty sure they’d not be happy about another Seijou face around. But I’m worried about Kageyama, and I want the show to work, so –” He heaved out a sigh. “Will you come on board and help out?”

“What?” He blinked and shook his head. “Absolutely not. I said I wasn’t getting up on stage, and I meant it.”

“Assistant Director,” Suga said quickly. “Well, that’s the official title, but really it’s more of an Oikawa ... um ...”

“Oikawa handler. Yeah, I get it.”

“He’ll listen to you in a way he won’t when Daichi or I try to get him to ease up.”

“You’re tugging at my heart strings, Sugawara,” Iwaizumi mocked and mimed playing a violin. “Tobio-chan needs to fight this himself. He won’t thank you for getting involved.”

“Agreed. But I don’t want him imploding before Nationals,” Suga said bleakly.

“Oh –ho, so you’re not such a philanthropist, Sugawara.  You have an ulterior motive. If Kageyama has a breakdown, though, you’d get to play.”

“I want to play on merit, not by default.” Getting angry now, he rose, leaving the coffee half drunk. “Sorry I bothered you. I somehow thought as you were his senpai, too, that you might  ... Ah, forget it.”

But as he got to the street, and proceeded to stride for the bus, he heard a peltering of footsteps pounding the pavement. And then a hand on his arm.

“I’ll help. I’ll turn up when I can with Oikawa, and chuck volleyballs at him when he gets too outrageous. But don’t mark me down as anything official, all right. If Oikawa even thinks I’m there because you asked me, then he’ll never let up.”

Suga closed his eyes and tried to will his heartbeat to subside. It had worked; the risk had paid off. “Thank you. This means a lot.”

Iwaizumi ran his hand through his hair, before buttoning up his jacket. “He was always so happy at Kitigawa, you know, just genuinely happy to be handling the ball. If I’m honest, it was a shock seeing him when he turned up to play in that practise match.”

“Why?”

“Um, well, he was better, but that wasn’t a surprise, it was more that despite improving and having all that skill at his fingertips, he looked so ... stern. He used to smile, you know, and he doesn’t now, does he?”

“He does, sometimes,” Suga replied, remembering the pure joy when the oddball strike with his falling toss had succeeded. “But it takes something special.”

***

 

“Is that boy coming today, Niichan?” Natsu asked. “Takeru?”

“Uh ... yeah, probably,” Shouyou replied.  He waved goodbye to his mum, who’d just dropped Natsu off, and taking her hand walked to the gym with her. “You’re a bit early, though, so you might have to wait a while.”

“That’s cool. I got some colouring pencils with me, and Yachi-san said she’d do a drawing with me.  She’s really good, isn’t she?”

“Uh-huh,” he replied. “She’s got to rehearse, though, so don’t bother her too much.”

“I don’t bother her,” she said, and beamed up at him. “Yachi-san likes me. She said so.”

“Well, she’s gonna go over lines with me, so don’t interrupt, okay?”

“I won’t.” Tilting her head to one side, Natsu stared up at him. “Do you know all yours yet?”

He frowned, not at his sister, but at himself. Shouyou was having trouble with lines, memorization had never been a strength, and though he was having fun, getting word perfect was causing him bigger problems than he’d thought. It wasn’t the songs, those he knew off by heart, and his scenes with Yachi, were okay because she’d coax him through, but faced with the Captain and the Grand King, he’d dry. It was rather like being on court when he was about to serve and knowing all he had to do was to get it over the net, but also knowing if he concentrated too hard, then it would end up in the back of Kageyama’s head, and everyone would shout.

“I’m getting there,” he told his sister as they entered the gym. “Okay, there about to start. Sit quietly, yeah, and there’s a drink in my bag if you want it.”

But as he bounded towards Yachi, muttering his lines, he caught sight of Hoshi and one of her friends rolling their eyes, and completely forgot his words.

“Don’t mind, Hinata,” Ennoshita called. “Ask for a prompt. That’s what Kageyama’s there for.”

“Tobio-chan’s here, is he?” drawled Oikawa as he walked in with his nephew. “Yoo-hoo, kouhai, are you feeling better today?”

Kageyama said nothing, instead glaring at Shouyou.

“Oh, Buttons, I’m exhausted from all this cleaning,” Yachi began, her voice trembling but loud as she tried to drown out the mutterings of Hoshi and her friends, and now Oikawa as he scolded Takeru for spilling juice on his shoe.

“Uh ...” Shouyou gulped. It was something about cleaning and how she had to rest and how he’d do some work. “You must work. No ... um ... You must ...um ... Dindercella ... uh...

“Cinders, you must rest,” Kageyama stated, his voice low and expressionless.

Shouyou repeated it, knowing the line he smiled and squeezed Yachi’s hand, before adding, “I’ve finished for the day, so let me help.”

Yachi sighed. “You’re a good friend, Buttons, but don’t you have to get home?”

“Home, no, I’d ....” Shouyou gulped, and then, as directed by Ennoshita, he faced the audience, supposedly out of Cinderella’s earshot. “I’d rather stay here with you, Cinders.”

She sighed, and stared into the fire. “I have to finish making my step-sister’s dresses,” Yachi said. “It’s the Ball tomorrow, and they’re insisting on sequins along the neckline.”

“I can help!” Shouyou shouted. “Tell me what to do and I’ll sew, or iron or ... or ... or... Cinderella, just let me help.”

“Buttons, you’re sweet, but remember last time when you were repairing my Stepmother’s bloomers.”

“And I cut a big hole in them ...” Shouyou continued, and raised his eyes to the ceiling. “He complained of cold cheeks for ages after –“

“SHE!” yelled Oikawa. “I know I’m male, but my character’s the Dame, Chibi-chan, and she’s female.”

“Huh?”

“SHE!  You keep referring to her as HE,” Oikawa explained as he strode forwards. His eyes flickered from Hinata and onto Kageyama. “You should be picking up on this, Tobio.”

“I thought-” Kageyama began, then shook his head. “Hinata, it’s SHE, not HE, dumbass.”

“Hey!  One mistake!” protested Shouyou, scowling. He glared at Kageyama, then turning back to Yachi ran through the lines again, now word perfect.

Oikawa clapped. “You see what one can do with the right encouragement, Tobio-chan.”

“Uh ... let’s leave that there,” Ennoshita interrupted. He smiled at the pair of them, and waved them off the stage. “Okay, as we have our Dame, can you and the Baron do your opening scene?”

“Hell, do we have to?” Daichi muttered.

“Get on with it,” Suga said, “it might stop Oikawa being quite so irritating if he’s got someone to spar with.”

“Hey, I’m not a punch bag.”

“Come on, Husband,” Oikawa cooed, fluttering his lashes, whilst simultaneously winking at Michimiya. “Let’s get started.”

“You know what I don’t get,” Daichi asked as he stalked across to the makeshift stage. “Why the hell would a Baron marry an old bat like her?”

“Uh ... he thought she had money, probably,” Ennoshita replied. “He is ... um ... 'hard up', after all.”

“Oh, right, yeah, that ... uh ... hadn’t occurred to me.”

Oikawa giggled coquettishly. “Oh, Captain, I never realised how pure and simple of heart you are.”

“Shut up, Oikawa,” Daichi growled.

“Interesting though,” Oikawa continued, ignoring Daichi’s glare. “Mr Director, why would I have married this man? He’s not exactly a catch, is he?”He sniffed the air around them. “Did you shower today, Sawamura?”

“We’ve been practising, arsehole, and we’ll be practising straight after, so if you can just get on with this fu-”

Oikawa flicked him on the arm. “Watch your language, Captain, there are children here.” He faced Ennoshita again, hands on hips and pouted.  “You’re the director, Ennoshita-kun, I just wondered what you thought my motivation was here?”

But before Ennoshita could reply, before Daichi shouted louder, and before Suga could intervene, another voice rang through the gym.

“Motivation?  How about not getting punched if you make it through the scene without aggravating anyone, Assikawa!”

Oikawa’s face lit up. “Iwa-chan, what are you doing here?”

“I was bored, and thought I might as well be bored watching you being a prima-donna prick,” he replied. He stomped inside, approaching Ennoshita. “You don’t mind do you? I’ll sit at the back, amuse the kids if you want.”

“Uh ... no, not at all,” Ennoshita said faintly as if he couldn’t believe his luck. Then he cleared his throat and turned back to Oikawa and Daichi. “Right, let’s get on. Daichi-san, the Baron married her for money. Oikawa-san, I imagine the Dame married him for his title. Does that help?”

“Pfft, what does it matter? It’s a pantomime, it doesn’t have to make sense.” He twisted back to Daichi, linking their arms, opened his mouth then said, “Prompt?”

“Huh?” Kageyama looked up.

“Prompt, that’s your little job, isn’t it, Tobio-chan? Prompt me, please, I appear to have forgotten my line.” He frowned. “Don’t tell me you don’t know where we are? You’re supposed to be keeping up.”

“S-s-sorry,” Kageyama stuttered, his face reddening. Then he blinked and glowered. “What do you mean there’s only one servant?”

“Hmm?”

“Your line,” Kageyama replied. “’What do you mean there’s only one servant’ – that’s what you say as you walk on with the Baron.”

“Ah, of course.”  He recited the line, then proceeded to rattle through the scene, upstaging Daichi at every opportunity, casting flirtatious side-glances at the imagined audience (keeping Michimiya and Hoshi in fits of laughter) then launching an invective at Buttons when Hinata scuttled onstage.

“Where are my beautiful daughters?”

“Uh...” Hinata gabbled.

“’Catching up on their beauty sleep. It might take a while’,” Kageyama intoned.

“I KNOW!” Hinata yelled. “I WAS ACTING, KAGEYAMA!”

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHEN YOU MESS UP EVERY LINE YOU HAVE!”

“BECAUSE ENNOSHITA-SAN TOLD ME TO ASK FOR A PROMPT AND I DIDN’T ASK!” Hinata yelled back.

“GUYS! QUIT IT!” Daichi shouted, louder by far than the pair of them combined.

“My word, is this how you run your team, Captain-chan? I’m surprised you can make it to a match without beating each other black and blue.”

“SHUT UP, OIKAWA!”

_Iwaizumi’s right,_ Suga thought, _he really does thrive on conflict._ Taking a breath to ease the gnawing in his stomach from knowing he had to be the one to calm everything, Suga got to his feet.

But before he could say a word, Ennoshita pulled out a whistle and quelled them all. “Now I have your attention,” he commanded. “Hinata, Kageyama was only trying to help. Kageyama, don’t be so eager to jump in. Daichi-san – please, leave this to me, and Oikawa ... this isn’t Seijou, and no one at Karasuno responds well to someone taking the piss.” He stopped and screwed up his nose. “Unless they’re Noya or Suga-san, perhaps.”

“Hey!” Suga objected, but mildly because whilst Ennoshita was speaking everyone else had calmed down.

“I want to move on to ‘It’s Raining Men’, so Oikawa-san, Noya and Tanaka, get ready please. Suga-san, if you don’t mind. Then once we’ve gone through that, the other kids will be here, and Yachi can do her scene with them.”

And with those words, the conflict died down. As Noya and Tanaka flanked him, Oikawa led the song, smiling as he did so, not at the girls, but at his fellow actors.

_‘I'm gonna go out_  
I'm gonna let myself get  
Absolutely soaking wet!’ he roared, then sashayed back between the Ugly Sisters, letting them take their turn.

_‘It's rainin’ men_  
Hallelujah  
It's rainin’ men,  
Every special men,’ sang Tanaka and Noya in falsetto, accompanied by the chorus, dancing in the background.

‘ _Tall_ ,’  they all chanted.

 ‘ _Blonde,_ ’ – Hoshi’s eyes flicked across to Suga, he lowered his, concentrating hard on the chords.

‘ _Dark and lean,  
Rough and tough and strong and mean,_ ’   Oikawa blew a kiss at Iwaizumi, laughing when he glowered back.

_‘God bless Mother Nature_  
She's a single woman, too  
She took over heaven  
And she did what she had to do’ – warbled Tanaka, not sounding nervous at all now. He stepped back in place, letting Noya take centre stage  


_‘She fought every Angel_  
To rearrange the sky  
So that each and every woman  
Could find the perfect guy,’  Noya belted out, and smiled cheekily at Kiyoko, not even faltering when she completely ignored him.

As he played, Suga looked on amazed that the three of them could work so well together, but then Noya had always admired Oikawa as a player. And Suga had a feeling that Oikawa , too, had been impressed with the Karasuno Libero, and held a grudging respect to Tanaka for facing him down during their Inter-High match.  On his side, Tanaka might loathe the attention Oikawa received as a player, but he’d never ignore his talent. The three together were having fun, laughing in a way Suga would never have thought possible. Okay, so when the song ended, they’d no doubt go back to sniping and showboating, but for now, there was a touch of magic up there. Suga just prayed it would translate to the proper stage on the night.

 

“BRILLIANT!  You’re great, guys,” Chikara called out, and bowed to them all as they finished. Everyone watching cheered, and Tanaka blushed when Kiyoko smiled and murmured well done as they trooped past her. They were all coming together as a cast, but there was one more thing, or maybe two, he needed.

“Uh, before you go,” Chikara said, facing the girls. “I ... um ... need some more people for the chorus. Walk on parts really, but I’d like them to be tall. They’re going to be palace guards, so I need them to tower over Cinderella and Buttons.”

“You could ask the football team, couldn’t you?” Michimiya suggested.

“They’ve refused,” he admitted. “They won’t benefit, so...” He shrugged but there was nothing to be done about it, and all the other teams he’d asked had turned him down, too.

“I could ask my cousin,” Hoshi said, and pulled out her phone. “He’s got some friends. Maybe they’ll do it.”

“Uh ... sure. Is he at Karasuno, only I’ve asked around and-”

She flapped her hand at him, speaking suddenly, “Hey, it’s me. It’s about this show I’m in. There are some walk-on parts, if you’re interested. Yeah, you can bring him, too. ” She smiled, and again Chikara was reminded of someone, but he couldn’t for the life of him work out who it was. “I thought so. We’re here now, so if you want to drop by. Uh-huh, I’ll tell him.” She snapped the phone shut and smirked. “My cousin’s on his way round with a friend. I’ll ... uh ... wait.”

And then a flurry of children arrived with their mums. Five of them charging into the gym, running over to Natsu, who they considered their leader (much to Takeru’s annoyance) and waiting for their adored Yachi-san.

Unable to speak to Hoshi, Chikara herded the children towards rehearsal, thanked everyone for their time, and dismissed those that weren’t needed for the rest of the day.

“Kageyama, you can go, if you want. Grab a snack or something. Practise doesn’t start for another hour.”

“You could join us, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa called, pulling up a seat next to Iwaizumi. “Be good to catch up, wouldn’t it? We could talk over old times.”

Kageyama said nothing but picked up his tracksuit top.

“Daichi-san, are we allowed to use the girls’ gym?” Hinata called.

“Uh ... yeah, as long as the basketball team aren’t in there. And try to have a bit of a break, okay? You need to eat.”

“Race you, Kageyama-kun!” Hinata cried, and in the next moment, he’d run out, tearing towards the girls’ gym.

He didn’t immediately chase after him, which was unusual for Kageyama, and Chikara wondered just how inhibited he was by his old senpai standing there.  Instead he walked to the equipment cupboard and pulled out a volleyball.

“Hey, Iwa-chan, why don’t we go and watch our kouhai? It will be amusing, don’t you think?”

“Leave him alone,” Iwaizumi muttered. “Just give him a break.”

“Since when were you bothered?” Oikawa snapped, and turned to face his friend. “Lighten up.”

“Stop picking on him then.”

“What’s got into you? This is Tobio, Iwa-chan.”

“And this is _tired_ , Oikawa. Just quit already.”

Oikawa smiled faux-pleasantly, then got to his feet. “Tobio-chan,” he said graciously. “Would you mind if we came to watch you practise? Perhaps we could even have a game – for old time’s sake.”

And then something happened, Chikara wasn’t sure what it was, but maybe the fact that Kageyama was holding a volleyball and wearing his Karasuno top had given him another perspective. He was a little shorter than Oikawa, but could still meet his eye level comfortably, and he stared back, unsmiling but with utter confidence.

“Why should I go out of my way to help a competitor?” he replied, then giving a stiff bow, he twirled the ball between his fingers and stalked away.

“I think you just got burned, Oikawa-chan,” Iwaizumi exclaimed, and started to laugh.

“What the hell can that little ... little ... UGHHGH. What the hell can he teach me!”

“How to win, Oikawa - how about that? ”someone said from the door.  The light was shining behind him, leaving a dark silhouette, so it was hard to make out on voice alone just who was standing there. But Chikara’s stomach plummeted because he knew.

“Hi, I believe you want some extras,” the boy said, ducking inside.

“Kenji! Great you made it!” Hoshi cried out. “Ennoshita, this is my cousin and ... uh ... his friend.” She smirked as her cousin and his companion loomed towards them all, and at last, the resemblance clicked in his mind.

“You’re related to Futakuchi. From Datekou.” His words left his mouth like a stone dropping to the barren ground.

“Uh-huh.” She smiled sweetly, linking arms with her cousin and reached up to pat his taller, blonde and fierce looking friend on the shoulder (who, it had to be said, looked uncomfortable with her attention and took a sidestep away). “Takanobu- kun’s a friend as well. They’d be ideal, don’t you think?”

_Futakuchi and Aone in the pantomime. I ... I don’t think I can ... He’s already antagonised Oikawa ... I ..._

But whatever thoughts he’d had were swept away when a small figure hurtled back through the doors, with all the force of a flaming comet.

“I forgot my water bot- OW!” shouted Hinata, rebounding off Aone’s leg.

“Hinata Shouyou,” Aone said gruffly, and reaching out with his hand, he pulled him to standing. “We meet again.”

Hinata shrieked and leapt backwards, almost stumbling to the floor. “Aghh!  What are you doing here?”

“Playing guards in the pantomime, Hinata-kun,” called out Suga. He approached from the back, and placed his hand on Chikara’s shoulder, murmuring,  “This pair against Buttons, it’s comedy gold, Chikara-kun. You _have_ to give them the roles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the positive response I've received so far for this. I've been worrying and angsting over it for a while because it seemed too daft, but uh ... I like daft sometimes, and I'm glad you do, too. :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an accident befalls a cast member ...  
> And you can all boo-hiss Oikawa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay - Christmas, NYE, and Daichi's birthday caught me out.

From the empty first floor classroom, Kiyoko had a good view of the courtyard. She pressed her nose against the windowpane, watching out for Michimiya who she’d promised to meet here so they could go through their lines. Michimiya, naturally, was late, but she didn’t mind particularly.

To her surprise, Kiyoko was enjoying the pantomime. She’d always known she’d get involved, she felt a certain obligation to the club she managed, and was pleased that this was a way she could actively help raise money for them. If all went well, then the club finances would certainly be healthier than when she’d become manager.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. I know I’m late!” Michimiya yelped as she ran through the door. Her eyes were bright, and her cheeks flushed by the cold, but her smile was wide as she began to unwind the Karasuno High scarf from her neck. 

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve not been here long,” Kiyoko said, ignoring the fact she’d been there fifteen minutes. 

“Yes, but it was my idea, and I really should have been on time,” she replied. She joined Kiyoko at the window, touching her on the arm. “Thank you. I just ... um ... get flustered with these lines, and it’s dumb because I haven’t got that many, but the ones I do have ...” She rolled her eyes. “Why do I have to speak in rhyme?”

“Doesn’t that make it easier?”

“Oh,  I know all the endings, just not the beginnings,” she said, sighing. And then she giggled. “Doesn’t help that Oikawa keeps making me laugh.”

Kiyoko arched an eyebrow. “Mmm, I had noticed. Are you ... um ... interested in him?”

“Oikawa?” She sounded genuinely surprised. “No. I mean not really. He’s kinda fun, that’s all, and amusing.  You must admit it makes a difference having a boy capable of holding a conversation that isn’t exclusively about volleyball!”

Kiyoko snorted. “Oikawa’s probably more obsessed with volleyball than all of them put together. He just hides it better.” She picked up her script. “Come on, we should rehearse.”

“How do you figure that?” Michimiya seemed reluctant to let the subject.

“For someone not interested in him, you sure talk about him a lot,” murmured Kiyoko and pulled her away from the window. “We don’t have much longer because volleyball practise is starting soon. Let’s run through your lines first, okay?”

“Mmm, okay,” Michimiya replied, still smiling. She caught sight of Kiyoko’s expression and laughed. “Hey, I’m really not interested in Oikawa Tooru. For one thing beating off his fan club would be far too tiring.”

“And another?”

Michimiya blushed. “I ... um ... sort of like someone else.”

“Daichi-san, I suppose,” Kiyoko said, trying not to sigh.

“Huh? Oh ... no.” She laughed back. “I gave up on him ages ago. I’m ... um ... Don’t you think that ... uh ...the ace is kinda hot?”

“Asahi? I’ve not really thought about it.”

“NO! Not _our_ ace. _Theirs!_ ”

Furrowing her brow, Kiyoko considered. “Seijou’s or Datakou’s?”

“Futakuchi?” Michimiya shrieked with laughter and horror. “Hoshi would kill me! And he’s kind of a brat, don’t you think? No, I mean Iwaizumi, of course. He’s ...um ... well, you must know what I mean!”

“I think if you’re expecting him to make a move, you’re going to be unlucky. He’s more taciturn than Daichi.”

Michimiya pulled a face. Pulling out her script, she wandered across to the door, preparing to close it, when something stayed her hand. “He’s here,” she hissed.

“What?”

“Iwaizumi!  Look, I can see him!”

“Why would he be here?” Kiyoko shook her head in exasperation. “You’re mistaken, Now, come on, get on with this, or I’m going to go and get a snack.”

“It’s him!” Michimiya insisted. “Look, the uniform is unmistakeable, and ... I don’t know why he’s here, but I can’t see Oikawa, so ...” Picking up her script, she ran out of the classroom, and leaned over the stair rail. “Iwaizumi-san, hi!”

“I thought you wanted to rehearse,” Kiyoko cried, throwing up her hands in despair, but she knew there was no reasoning with Michimiya when she got like this. With a week to go, the nerves were kicking in, making her erratic not just with line learning, but in her dealings with everyone. She’d be fine, she’d always made it through her matches, but the ride was often a bumpy one. Assuming their rehearsal was now over, Kiyoko sighed and followed her out of the classroom.

It _was_ Iwaizumi on the ground floor corridor. At the sound of Michimiya’s voice, he’d stopped and was looking around him, trying to locate the caller. From where she stood, Kiyoko saw the whole thing in slow motion. Iwaizumi glancing upwards, Michimiya raising her hand as she rushed for the stairs. The scarf around her neck unwinding. And then the end of it touching the floor, and Michimiya’s foot treading on the woollen tassels ... sending her flying.

“AGHH!”

“Michi-san!” screamed Kiyoko.

“What the hell!” shouted Iwaizumi as Michimiya crashed down the stairs, landing at his feet.  “Kerrrist, are you okay?”

“Ow, ow, ow. This huuuurts,” Michimiya moaned. She tried to move, tried to lift herself off the floor, but as Kiyoko reached her, she saw Michimiya’s face blanch and then she shrieked in pain. Her eyes rolled and her face hit the floor in a dead faint.

“We must get help!”

“Uh ... yeah, but I don’t know my way around here so –“ Iwaizumi said, flapping his arms.

“Right, you stay here, and I’ll fetch someone.”

“Uh, what do I do? Shall I make her comfortable?”

“No, don’t move her, just um ... make sure she’s okay, and if she wakes, make small talk or something.”

“Small talk?” The sound of that appeared to scare Iwaizumi far more than the prospect of Michimiya’s injury.

“Hold her hand and keep her calm!” Kiyoko ordered. “I won’t be long!”

She ran, picking up the pace, she scurried along the corridor, her eyes flitting all around as she searched for a teacher. Michimiya’s fall played out in front of her, the trip on the scarf, landing awkwardly and the horrifying sound as something cracked. She shook her head, hoping she’d imagined that particular horror, but as Michimiya had tried to get up, moving her leg, she’d collapsed.

“Shimizu-san! Is there a problem?”

She turned suddenly; Takeda was walking along the other corridor, a sheaf of papers under his arm and his jacket slightly askew.

“Please...” she gasped. “There’s been an accident.”

He didn’t panic, but hurried back with her to Michimiya, not even turning a hair when he saw Iwaizumi crouched by her side, awkwardly patting her hand.

“So then he went to do a dump shot, but he missed it and-” He looked up. He looked panicked. “Oh great, you’re back. Uh, she woke up,” he said, and scuttled backwards.

“Michimiya-kun,” Takeda murmured, taking Iwaizumi’s place. “Do you know where you are?”

“School.”

“Did you hurt your head?”

“N-no.” She tried to sit up and cried out again. “It’s my leg.”

Her leg was twisted underneath her, and even though she wasn’t close, Kiyoko could make out the very odd angle her ankle was positioned in. She felt her throat dry, and without meaning to, she flinched and stepped backwards.

 “I’m going to call an ambulance,” Takeda soothed, pulling out his phone. “Lie still.” Glancing over her, his eyes met Kiyoko’s. “Don’t worry, I’ll go to the hospital with her and wait for her parents.”

“I-I should go with her,” Kiyoko stammered.

Takeda shook his head, and as he gazed at her, she realised he knew the turmoil she was in and the sick churning to her stomach when she saw Michimiya’s ankle. “Shimizu-kun, I need you to explain my absence to Coach Ukai,” he said, adding softly, “And Ennoshita.”

 

 

“It might not be that bad,” Iwaizumi murmured.  “Oikawa sprained his knee once, and we all thought it was a lot worse. Mind you, he was making a lot of fuss, so ... uh ...”

They were walking together to the gym. Kiyoko had said she could manage but he’d shrugged and said he’d been heading that way anyway.

“Take-chan called an ambulance,” she replied bleakly. “I don’t think he’d do that for a sprain, and her ankle ...” She gulped trying to stop her throat from closing. “It looked _awful_.”

“Yeah, well, good job it wasn’t in a ma-”

“Is that _really_ all you can think about?”

He stopped walking, stared at her and then at the ground. “Sorry.”

Sniffing, she carried on towards the gym, walking faster because practise was well under way now, and she needed to speak to Ennoshita before the evening rehearsal. 

“I _am_ sorry,” he said, jogging after her. “I’ve been caught up with volleyball for so many years, it’s kind of hard to not think in those terms. And she’s a volleyball player, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she’s a player, and a good one, but it’s not her whole life!” Kiyoko retorted. And then she sighed because this really wasn’t his fault, and she knew the guys of Karasuno would have reacted in the exact same way.  “Sorry.”

“No, no, my fault,” he muttered, and inclined his head slightly.

They walked a few more paces in silent, and then she turned to him. “Why are you here, Iwaizumi-san?”

“Said I’d help with the set,” he muttered.

“But why?” she persisted. “It can’t just be because you’re bored that you keep turning up to rehearsals.”

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes and his mouth set into a firm line, but when he answered, her, his voice was mild. “Oikawa’s not lying about Little Tykes, you know. It’s important to him. And to me. So, as much as I really don’t care about Karasuno, I’d like to help with the fund raising.”

“You don’t care about the Prefecture’s representatives going to Nationals?”

He barked a bitter laugh. “And you’d have turned out for Seijou, would you?”

She didn’t answer, instead quickening her step as they approached the gym, and then she faltered as the image of Michimiya, her face so pale and agonised flooding her mind.

“Do you want me to tell them?” he asked.

Pushing her glasses back into place, Kiyoko gave him one of the looks she usually reserved for Tanaka and Nishinoya. Unlike them though, Iwaizumi didn’t quail, but winced, then cocked her half a smile. “Sorry, you’re the manager. I guess this is your job.”

“You guessed right,” she murmured. And then she smiled. “Besides, if you tell them, they’ll assume you pushed her.”

 

Ennoshita, she thought afterwards, took the news far too well. He was calm as he left practise, gathering up his kit bag, straightening his shirt, and slipping on his gakuran to walk across to the hall where they were staging the pantomime. He murmured something about finding a replacement, but didn’t appear perturbed by the thought at all. And for a brief moment, Kiyoko believed things would be fine, and that Ennoshita really did have everything under control.

It was only during the rehearsal that the shit really hit the fan.

“WHY THE HELL CAN’T YOU GET THIS RIGHT?”  he yelled, suddenly, explosively and completely out of character, causing all the cast, even Oikawa, to jump out of their skins. “ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS STAND STILL!”

“Hey, chill!” Futakuchi said, snorting. “Hoshi was making me laugh, that’s all.”

“STOP LAUGHING! THIS SHOW GOES ON IN A WEEK AND YOU CAN’T EVEN ... CANT EVEN ...” He broke off and stalked on the stage, staring up at the two Datekou players.

“Ennoshita-kun,” Suga said, trying to intervene, but Ennoshita wasn’t listening.

“You,” he began, jabbing both Futakuchi and Aone on the chest, “are supposed to be the effing Iron Wall of Datekou, isn’t that right?”

“Uh ... yeah,” Futakuchi replied, casting a quick look at Aone.

“THEN ACT LIKE IT!” Ennoshita yelled, then took a breath, largely to calm himself.  “Buttons wants to get in the castle to see the Ball. You can’t let him in. Your jobs depend on it.”

“Yeah, we know that. But he’s quick,” Futakuchi said, laughing. “Tell Shrimpy to stop dodging us.”

“Does that stop you on the volleyball court?” Ennoshita raved. “Do you give up just because he can jump? If that’s the case, then wow I hope we get to play you next year because you’ll be a push-“

“ENNOSHITA!” Daichi strode across and pulled him away. “STOP. You need to take a breather.”

“Do none of you understand!” he pleaded as Daichi frogmarched him to the back of the hall. “We go on in a week. The set’s not finished. Half of you don’t know your lines and now there’s no Fairy Godmother!”

“Uh ... okay.” Suga, after a nod from Daichi, stood up and walked to the centre of the hall. “Can we try that again? Guards, be a little more ... hmmm... like the impregnable fortress, yeah?”

Nodding, Aone raised his hand, his eyes glaring with an intensity he only reserved for the best aces, and pointed straight at Hinata. “We will knock you down, Buttons.”

“Oh, yeah,” Hinata said, squaring up to him, or rather to his chest.

“Hold on!” It was Oikawa speaking, a frown creasing his brow. “What do you mean there’s no Fairy Godmother? What’s happened to Yui-san?”

“Hurt her ankle,” Iwaizumi called out, catching Kiyoko’s eye. “It doesn’t look good.”

Oikawa swivelled to face him. “How do you know what it looks like, Iwa-chan?”

“He was there,” Kiyoko said miserably. “We both were. Michimiya fell down the stairs.”

“Then shouldn’t _someone_ ,” Oikawa said, glaring across at Ennoshita, who was on the receiving end of one of Daichi’s pep talks, “be trying to find a replacement, instead of worrying about a couple of extras that no one would miss if you cut them?”

“Hey!” Futakuchi protested.

“Hold on,” Kiyoko interjected because Futakuchi looked as if he was about to square up to Oikawa.  Behind him, Hoshi was smiling to herself, obviously thinking this was her chance, so she needed to quash that. “It might not be that bad. Sensei’s at the hospital now, so I think Ennoshita-kun is right that we should be getting on.” She glanced at Yachi. “Shall we do our scene at the Ball?”

But however hard she tried, however hard they all tried, the spectre of Michimiya’s accident played on their minds. The rehearsal, where they should all have been word perfect was now a shambles, as lines were fumbled, scenes jumbled up, and tempers frayed.

Kageyama had never been so busy.

“Prompt?” Kiyoko asked.

“I will search far and wide throughout the realm-”

“I will search far and wide throughout the realm to seek...” A deep sigh. “Prompt?”

“To seek the princess fair,” Kageyama said.

“You do realise,” Suga heard Iwaizumi mutter in his ear, “that Kageyama isn’t using a script to prompt.”

Suga stared at Iwaizumi, and then at Kageyama, watching him for a few more minutes as he fed both Kiyoko and Yachi  their lines.

“He _is_ good at memorisation,” Suga murmured.

“Pity.”

“Hmm, what do you mean?”

“We’ve lost the Fairy Godmother, and the one person that knows all the lines in the play, will never agree to take on that part,” Iwaizumi replied.

Suga considered. Yes, Iwaizumi was right on all counts, but maybe, just maybe, there was an answer buried, and if only they dug a little deeper, they might unearth it.  

“Mmm, it’s a shame,” he murmured. “But perhaps if we put our heads together.”

“Hey, hey, what’s all this we business? This has nothing to do with me!”

“’ _We’ve_ just lost the Fairy Godmother’, you said, Iwaizumi-san,” Suga reminded him. “ _And_ you came in to help with the sets. I think you’re as much a part of this as us, now, don’t you?”

 

It didn’t take Chikara that long to calm down. Having Daichi remove him from the wind up merchant that was Futakuchi gave him a chance to breathe and reflect. In the side room attached to the hall, he sat and waited for the others to come in, having called an emergency meeting. They’d lost Michimiya with a barely a week left, but, if the worst came to the worst, he’d get up there himself with a book and read the part. It wasn’t ideal, but now that he’d found _a_ solution at the bottom of the barrel, then maybe he could find the answer nearer the top.

“Get one of the girls in the chorus to step up,” Oikawa was saying, as he strolled in. “It’s not a hard a part after all, and that cousin of Futakuchi’s can at least hold a tune.” He smirked. “Funny how these things don’t run in families.”

_Hoshi?  Oh no. And why is Oikawa here?_

“Hmm, possibly.” Suga clicked his tongue. “She might upset the balance, don’t you think?”

“Better than no balance at all, which is what we have without Yui-san!”

“It might be the only option,” Chikara said neutrally. “Unless anyone else has an idea ... Suga-san?”

“Uh, well, it’s more Iwaizumi’s, actually,” Suga said, sounding apologetic.  “And I’m not sure if we should be discussing it right now because the person it would affect the most isn’t here.”

“It affects us all, Sugawara-san,” Oikawa said coldly. “Some of us more than others. You, for instance, aren’t on stage at all.”

“But I’m the one who will be working with a new Fairy Godmother, Oikawa,” Suga countered. “I am the one playing the music.”

Kiyoko coughed and shifted a little on her chair. “The person who has the most time with her is Yachi, so I think she has to have some say in this.” She smoothed her lips together, adding softly, “She will need to feel comfortable on stage with any replacement, don’t you think, Ennoshita-kun?”

The hint wasn’t subtle, and he caught sight of Suga smothering a grin in his hand. But she was right – it was Yachi who needed to feel at ease on stage. And Yachi shook whenever Hoshi came her way.

“I agree with you – in theory,” Oikawa drawled. “But who does she feel comfortable with? There’s Chibi-chan and your jump float serve guy. They’re the only ones she never seems to have a problem with, and they’re already on stage.”

“Well, yes, but,” Suga put in, splaying his hands out on his thighs, “we do also have, as Iwaizumi pointed out to me, one person here who knows all the lines of the play. And there’s a part that needs filling. The only thing is-“

“What?  WHO!” Chikara shouted. “Suga, who are you talking about?”

“Oh for goodness sake!” Iwaizumi got to his feet, suddenly exasperated. “Sugawara’s right, except for one thing. This person won’t want to be Fairy Godmother-” He broke away from the group, and peered out of the door. All eyes in the room followed him, and all eyes focused on the group of three sitting on the stage, picking at snacks and water.  “Damn shame because from where I’m standing, your Cinderella’s pretty comfortable with him, too.”

“You mean Kageyama?” Daichi said, stepping closer. “Well, yes, she doesn’t feel awed by him at all, but ... uh ...”

“Do you think we could possibly persuade him?” Chikara asked, his eyes round with hope but also disbelief.

Oikawa’s peals of laughter filled the room. “Iwa-chan, that’s a nasty joke. My poor kouhai couldn’t take on the role. Or any role.”

“Why not?” Iwaizumi said. “He knows the words. He can take pressure. And, I have heard him singing some of the songs, when he didn’t realise anyone could hear. So, Kageyama could, in _theory_ play the part.”

“But he won’t want to,” Daichi said.

“Why did you bring this up?” Chikara groaned. “We know Kageyama doesn’t want to be on stage. And taking on something like that when you’re already uncomfortable. It would be a disaster-”

“Yep, I agree. Sugawara was the one who thought there was a solution somewhere,” Iwaizumi replied. “I said he was wrong. Besides, I think you have enough role reversals going on, and another prima donna in a dress isn’t going to help.”

“Tobio simply doesn’t have the nerve,” Oikawa retorted. “And I am NOT a prima-donna, Iwa-chan. Promote one of the chorus girls, that would appear to be the best solution, as sweet Tobio seems painfully out of step and miscast. And pray they can learn the lines in time.”

“Oh!” Kiyoko silenced them all. “I’m not sure this is of any use, but I know Michimiya’s part as well as my own. We’ve been running lines together at every opportunity, so I could take over her role.”

“Freeing up Prince Charming...” Chikara finished slowly, his mind awhirl. “Kageyama could-”

Oikawa snorted. “Prince Charm _less_ , you mean.” Poking his head out of the door, still laughing, he waved to the trio on the stage. “Yoo-hoo, Tobio-chan, you’ll never guess what they want you to do now.”

“Huh?”

“They want you to be the Prince,” he mocked. “Don’t worry, your senpai won’t let you make an idiot of yourself.”

“Oikawa!” Iwaizumi warned. “Leave it alone.”

“Iwa-chan, I’m just having a little fun. It’s not my fault Tobio can’t take a little teasing.”

Scowling Kageyama got to his feet, stormed to the side of the hall and picked up his bag. “If I’m not needed,” he said. “I’m going home, Ennoshita-san.”

“You see,” Oikawa drawled. “He can’t even smile.”

 “Why don’t you shut it for once?” Daichi shouted, and pushing past Oikawa, he grabbed Chikara’s shoulder. “Go and talk to him.”

“What do I say? He’s dead set on not doing this.” He glanced over Daichi’s shoulder, finding Suga’s eyes. “I don’t know how to persuade him.”

His heart sank when Suga sighed. “He’s stubborn, so he’s not someone that can be flattered into something, but ... um ... he responds well to cooling off and competition, don’t you think?”

“Right, yes ... got that.” Chikara gulped then strode from the room. “KAGEYAMA-KUN, COME BACK ... PLEASE.”

There was a collective holding of breath, all eyes watching for Kageyama’s next move. And then Kageyama slowed his pace, and his head appeared to turn to the side, as if waiting.

It was all the indication Chikara needed, he ran towards him, catching him by the door, and pulled him into the hallway.

“I’m not doing it,” Kageyama said.

“Please think about this,” Chikara said, and tried a smile. “You’ve got another chance to prove Oikawa wrong.  How can you possibly refuse?”

“I don’t want to act. And he’s not going to let up, is he? Why should I bother?”

“Hey!”

They both turned their heads. Hinata had followed them, and Yachi, standing a little further back and biting her lip.

“Go away, dumbass,” Kageyama muttered. “I’ll see you tomorrow at practise.”

“You can’t be the Prince,” Hinata said.

“Hinata, please, I’m trying-” Ennoshita started. He faltered, for Hinata’s expression was strangely reminiscent of the times he’d befriended Yachi, or persuaded Noya to help him with receives. He was a boy with an uncanny ability to reach people, and the amazing thing was that it came straight from his heart.

“Why can’t I?” Kageyama argued, suddenly belligerent.

Hinata’s eyes were wide and innocent, but Ennoshita could have sworn for a moment that he’d winked at him. “Because Cinderella ends up with the Prince and not Buttons,” he told Kageyama. “And I won’t lose to you.”

“Dumbass!” Kageyama cursed, and screwing up his juice carton, he threw it straight towards the bin at the end of the hallway. It bounced on the rim, before clattering inside.  Then hitching his bag back on his shoulder, he stomped back into the hall. “Ennoshita-san, if you want me, I’m in!”

Heaving a shuddering sigh of relief, Chikara followed the pair of them back into the hall. Then, gathering all the cast together, he explained the situation. Although they had no news of Michimiya, both Kiyoko and Iwaizumi confirmed the worst fears that her ankle had looked badly injured, which meant he had to consider recasting. Avoiding Hoshi’s eye, as she shuffled on her feet making ‘me me’ noises, he calmly talked the cast through the changes.

“Shimizu-san isn’t that much taller than Michimiya, so the costume will fit,” he placated, finally catching Hoshi’s eye, “and Kageyama, thanks to acting as prompt, knows the majority of the part already. I will need extra rehearsal time, but as both parts are somewhat isolated, I won’t need everyone else here.”

“Kageyama has a good voice, too,” Suga put in, and smiled at Yachi. “We’ll work on the duet, okay.”

Edging closer to Kageyama, Yamaguchi touched him tentatively on the arm. “We have scenes together, so maybe we can practise on our own.”

Kageyama nodded, his face serious as he concentrated on everything around him. And it was that concentration, that gravity, which caused Oikawa to laugh.

“Prince Charming?  Really? Tobio-chan can’t even smile. How do you expect Cinderella and the audience to fall for a romantic lead who looks as if he should be the villain? This is ridic-“

“Oikawa, shut up,” Iwaizumi warned, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“But this is a joke. They might as well have cast you, Iwa-chan.”

“What?”

Iwaizumi’s voice had a dangerous tone to it, something that made Chikara flinch, but Oikawa didn’t appear to care.  He smiled, and ruffled his friend’s hair. “No one could call you charming or handsome, Iwa-chan. You’re far more ... hmm ... homely.”

“Say that again.”

“Homely.” Oikawa said, enunciating clearly. “Plain. Why do you think you have no success with gir- OW!” He yelped as Iwaizumi slapped him on the head, then dodged the fist heading for his face.

“Not here, not here,” shouted Daichi, wading in to break up the inevitable fight. He caught Iwaizumi’s arms and grappled him backwards. “Please, if there’s a brawl in the here, the Dean will close us down.”

“Let me go!”

“Not if you’re going to hit him. Take it outside, will you?”

“I’m not going to hit him,” Iwaizumi replied through gritted teeth. “I’m not even going to yell at him, or talk to him, or have anything to do with him. EVER AGAIN!”

“Ah, you say that, Iwa-chan, but you know you don’t mean it,” Oikawa said, sounding confident, but he stepped behind Aone and Futakuchi, peeking his head through the gap (which widened considerably when Futakuchi sidestepped away).“I’m only speaking the truth, after all. Tobio as Prince Charming is... _miscast_. And it is my opinion,” he shot a look and a smile at Hoshi, “that it would be better –“

“NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR OPINION!” Iwaizumi shouted. He broke free from Daichi’s grip, and evaded Chikara’s desperate lunge to reel him in, but instead of heading for Oikawa, Iwaizumi turned sharply on the ball of his foot and grabbed Kageyama.  “YOU, TOBIO, ARE GOING TO BE THE BEST FUCKING THING IN THIS PANTOMIME. GOT THAT!”

“Uh ...”

“GOT THAT!”

“Uh ...” Kageyama’s eyes flickered wildly.

“NO YOU WILL!” Iwaizumi shouted, and taking several breaths, he released him. “I will help you. I will be by your side. I will prompt. I will coach. I will even learn the fucking guitar so I can accompany you if that’s what it takes. But you will get on that stage and you will show that fucker that you can do this.” He glared at everyone, not just Oikawa, before returning his attention to Kageyama. “Now, Kageyama-kun, have you got that?”

Kageyama stared at him, dumbstruck, and then he bowed. “Yes, Iwaizumi-san. I’ve got that.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author could not resist adding one of her favourite characters into the mix ... 
> 
> Also, Tooru gets a POV as well as Tobio ...

Iwaizumi was true to his word. And at times Tobio wished he wasn’t. Rehearsals in that last week were relentless, not somewhere he could turn up and help people with their lines, or help arrange props, but a place where he had to actively combine with the others, and react to them. He’d thought he wouldn’t have a problem, he played volleyball with these guys after all, but acting was different. He couldn’t let his ball skills speak for him, for now _he_ had to do the speaking. The only saving grace was that so few of his scenes were with Oikawa, and as he was no longer prompting, he didn’t have to stand there and listen to the mockery.

But Prince Charming. Tobio gritted his teeth. Everyone shouting at him to smile - _all_ the time. Hell, it was worse than when he’d been the moon in his Elementary school play. How had he got himself talked into this? It was Hinata’s fault. Idiot shrimp, daring him.

“You _have_ to loosen up.” Iwaizumi instructed him, when he stomped off the stage, having just done the scene where he first met Cinderella. “Yachi is shaking in her boots, and you’ve got to be able to reassure her, okay?”

“But why is she scared?”

Suga sat next to him. “She was counting on acting with Shimizu-san, and now it’s you, and so she’s worried that you’ll forget your words or your cues, and that’s flustering her.”

“I know my words.” Tobio said seriously, and scowled. “That why Ennoshita-san cast me.”

“Mmm, partly, but also it’s because Yachi is ... uh ... well,” Suga started to reply. He smiled a little. “She gets intimidated by people, Kageyama, you know that, but she’s ... hmmm ... she’s not really intimidated by you. Or she wasn’t.”

“Why _would_ she be intimidated? I’m not scary.”

Iwaizumi laughed. Starting as a chuckle, it developed into a full- throated roar as he slapped Tobio on the back. “Scowling like that, you’ll scare that bloody Iron Wall.” He stood up. “Right, I’m going to stretch my legs. I’ll fetch drinks.”

Noticing the movement, Oikawa, who’d just arrived on the stage, called across, “Getting too much for you, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi didn’t reply, and gave no indication that he’d even heard, except, his pace slowed a little, and then it increased.

“I know you’re listening!”

“Worry about your own scene,” Ennoshita interjected hurriedly. “Daichi, take it from your entrance, yes?”

“I’m needed for the next song,” Suga whispered to Kageyama. “Just ... uh ... try to relax.”

“I am relaxed.”

Suga was biting his lip, as if he was in pain, or maybe trying not to laugh. “Um ... yeah ... okay, if you say so. But ... uh ... you are frowning, Kageyama-kun, so maybe try and think of something happy. Like ... um ... a good serve.”

He thought about a serve, concentrating hard on the type of spin he’d use, the right toss, the jump and where to aim. He had it all in his mind’s eye. “Better?” he asked.

“No, bloody terrifying,” Suga laughed. Then he squeezed Tobio’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll think of something.”

Think of what? Why was Suga-san so worried?            

He sat back, drank what was left in his water bottle and watched Oikawa on stage. Even to Tobio’s inexpert eye, he could tell he was good. He had a presence, which was similar to the one he carried on court, and it was the sort of aura that would probably carry the cast with him.

Someone nudged him and he looked up to see Iwaizumi with coffee and a juice. “Don’t worry about him.”

“I’m not,” Tobio said, and shrugged. “This isn’t our battleground.”

“But the court is,” Iwaizumi replied. “Even now?”

“Of course.  We’re both Setters, so we’ll always be rivals.”

Iwaizumi sat and stretched his legs out, his eyes intent on the stage. To Tobio it all felt surreal. Oikawa’s friend, his ‘henchman’, second in command, his ‘ace’, now sitting alongside him, and chatting about a play, and a rivalry, as if it were nothing.

“Why are you here?” he asked. “I don’t need your help. Or protection.”

“Tell that to Sugawara,” he thought he heard Iwaizumi murmur.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Iwaizumi shook his head. “I don’t think you need protecting from Oikawa. He’s got a whiplash of a tongue, and likes winding people up, but you’re ugly enough to take care of yourself, I reckon.”

“So why are you here? And why are you helping _me_?”

Taking quick small sips of his coffee, Iwaizumi smiled, a small tight smile, one that barely flicked at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe _I_ like winding Oikawa up,” he replied.

He said no more and Tobio didn’t ask, but he had the feeling Iwaizumi wasn’t being entirely honest.

“Kageyama, we’re going to do your duet next. Get ready,” Ennoshita called.

 “Okay.” He gulped at his juice, draining the carton as he stood up.

“Know the words?” Iwaizumi murmured. He nodded. “Then you’ll be fine.”

“I know,” he muttered.

In the wings, with Yamaguchi flanking him, he felt impatient. He didn’t want to be here. The others on stage liked it, but he ... he was here because of an accident and he’d much rather be practising his toss, or his serve because he needed to up the power and the accuracy. Instead he was attending some dumbass rehearsal for a dumbass show because he’d been riled by Hinata. And this song. UGHH! He hated it.

“Y-you’re d-doing well,” Yamaguchi whispered. “Don’t worry.”

 “Huh?”

Yamaguchi took a very deep breath. “I stood on the sidelines enough times to know how frustrating this is, and how scary when you finally get on.”

“I’m not scared!”

“N-no, of course not,” he muttered in reply. “Sorry.”

Tobio frowned. He wasn’t used to Yamaguchi speaking out like this. “I’m not. It’s just ... I don’t ... I don’t like this song.”

“Oh.” Yamaguchi fidgeted a little, and then he appeared to muster his courage, and tugged on Tobio’s arm. He coughed. “Yachi likes it. I think it ... um ... gives her confidence because she knows the song so well.”

_And that means ... what exactly?_ Oh ... Sugawara and Iwaizumi had told him she was nervous. Nervous of him. Or for him. Which was dumb because he knew the words and the song, and all he had to do was walk on stage and perform it.

“Ready, Kageyama?” Suga called out.

“Uh-huh.”

He stepped onto the stage, Yamaguchi following close by. It was the part of the play where the Prince was declaring he loved the girl he’d danced with at the Ball.

“But how will I find her again, Dandini?” he said.

“Louder,” called Ennoshita and scratched his head. “Can you look a bit more ... um ... lovelorn?”

“What?”

“Lovelorn. You’ve met the girl of your dreams and now she’s disappeared. All you have left is a glass slipper.”

Huh? Okay, he screwed up his face, trying to remember how Shimizu-san had looked when she’d been the Prince. Wide eyes and a goofy type of smile.

“My God, he looks demented. Cinderella will run a mile!” Oikawa stage whispered, just loud enough for Tobio and Yamaguchi to hear.

“Try without the smile,” Ennoshita called back. “Yeah ... that’s .... um ... okay.”

“But how will I find her again, Dandini?” he repeated.

“You have the slipper,” Yamaguchi said, sweeping it out from beneath his jacket. “And it’s such a dainty size, there can’t be many girls whose foot would fit. But, my Lord, are you sure you want to find her?”

“Oh yes,” Tobio said, adding a breath because he remembered the way Shimizu had acted. Oikawa said nothing, and Ennoshita didn’t stop him, so he carried on, casting a quick glance at Suga. “And this is why.”

 

“ _I thought love was only true in fairy tales_  
Meant for someone else but not for me.  
Love was out to get me  
That's the way it seemed.  
Disappointment haunted all my dreams.”

  
There were no more taunts from Oikawa, and Sugawara was smiling at him. Twisting around, he faced Yamaguchi, who was joining him for the chorus. His smile was wide, no longer worried at all, and Tobio got a glimpse of another side of the boy who’d grown so much since their first days at the club.  
  
“ _Then I saw her face, now I'm a believer_  
Not a trace of doubt in my mind.  
I'm in love, I'm a believer!  
I couldn't leave her if I tried.”

And then the pair of them froze on stage as Yachi danced on with Hinata, singing the next verse.  
  
“ _I thought love was more or less a given thing,_  
Seems the more I gave the less I got.  
What's the use in tryin'?  
All you get is pain.  
When I needed sunshine, I got rain.  
  
Then I saw his face, now I'm a believer  
Not a trace of doubt in my mind.  
I'm in love, I'm a believer!  
I couldn't leave him if I tried.”

 

“So the Ball was good, huh, Cinders?” Hinata asked, his face drooping.

 “Oh, it was amazing,” Yachi said, and twirled around. “I danced all night with the Prince. But then ...” She gulped and dabbed her eyes. “I had to leave because it was midnight.

 “My dress turned to rags, the coach was a pumpkin, and the footmen were mice again.”

“And you lost your shoe?”

“Mmm, that was annoying.” Yachi placed her hands on her hips and frowned. “I now have another hole in my tights.”

Something bothered him about this story, so, just as he’d been told to do in class if he was stuck, Tobio raised his hand. “Uh!” 

“Yes, Kageyama what is it?” asked Ennoshita.

“Why doesn’t the shoe change back?”

“What?”

Tobio thought carefully. “Cinderella has this Fairy Godmother, who changes her clothes to a ballgown, and a pumpkin into a coach, and everything changes back at midnight. But not the shoe.”

“Tobio’s analysing a pantomime, how quaint!”

“Careful, you’ll be moved up a class if you keep this up,” Tsukishima called out. “They’ll make you use your brain, then, King.”

“Do you know?” he asked, ignoring Oikawa and facing Tsukishima.

“Because the story doesn’t work otherwise,” Tsukishima replied, and yawned.

“But that doesn’t explain-”

“Kageyama-kun,” rapped Daichi, from behind Oikawa, waiting to come on. “None of this makes sense, so let’s just pretend it does and get on with finishing this scene and then we can go to practise, okay?”

That snapped him back to the task in hand. With the thought of practise, and escaping back to the gym, Tobio concentrated and didn’t question anything else for the rest of the rehearsal.

“Okay, good, good,” Ennoshita cried, half an hour later. “Uh, not many notes for you. Dame, if you can try to remember not to block your husband and daughters all the time.”

“I am the star,” Oikawa sniffed. “It’s me who gets the laughs.”

“It’s their reactions to you that mean you get the laughs,” Ennoshita remarked sagely. “Kageyama...”

“Yes.”

“You _have_ to smile. You’re Prince Charming, and everything is working well, but you’re ... uh ... scowling.”

“Charm _less_ , I told you,” Oikawa said plaintively.

“Shut up!”

“Thought you weren’t talking to me, Iwa-chan. I knew you’d crack.”

“Do you want a slap? ‘Cause I swear I’ll fuc-”

Quickly blowing his whistle, Ennoshita got to his feet. “Right, we’ll end it there. Same time tomorrow, and the children will be with us, too, so ... uh ... keep the language down, will you?”

They packed away swiftly, stacking chairs and clearing any props to the side of the room. Tobio working with Hinata, blocked out the sounds of his chatter and the constant refrain of ‘It’s fun, isn’t it?’ and watched as Oikawa picked up his bag. Iwaizumi was talking to Suga, but when he finished, he dawdled by the door.

“Oikawa,” he called out, holding up some keys. “I’m leaving now if you want a lift.”

“Can’t stay mad at me for long, can you?”

“Or maybe I’ll just run you over in the car park,” Iwaizumi snarled, but his frown gave way to a grin. “See you tomorrow, everyone. Ennoshita, I promise to ... uh ... keep my language clean.  Kageyama, remember...” Placing his forefingers either side of his mouth, he pulled its corners upwards, then raised his hand and waved goodbye.

“He’s telling you to smile,” Hinata said.

“I KNOW!”

“Do you want to practise that?”

“Why would I, dumbass! I can smile.”

Hinata shrugged. “Oh-kay. If you say so.”

“I DO!” he grumped, and then, slamming the last chair into place, he stomped over to his bag and stalked out of the hall.

Ahead of him, Oikawa and Iwaizumi were walking together, and Oikawa appeared to be talking, but whether Iwaizumi was replying, or ignoring him, Tobio didn’t know.

 

 

“Are you going to give me the silent treatment all the way home?” Tooru asked as they drove out of the school.

“I’m giving you a lift, that suggests I’m not _that_ pissed at you anymore,” Iwaizumi replied. He slowed the car at the gates, flicked the indicator and then turned right.

“With your driving, Iwa-chan, you might just be planning to kill me,” Tooru said dryly, and cast Iwaizumi a side glance, waiting for a reaction.

But Iwaizumi was calm, calmer than usual, even with Tooru picking at his driving (a sore point after the near miss he’d had when Tooru had insisted on changing the radio station so he could listen to the music he liked).

“You’re getting on well with Mr Refreshing, aren’t you?”

“Huh? Oh, Sugawara. Well, yeah, it would be hard not to get on with him,” Iwaizumi muttered, slowing down at the traffic lights.

“Doesn’t he annoy you being so happy all the time?”

“Nope, it makes a change,” came the reply, and then a small chuckle. “And in his case the smile’s genuine.”

“You’re infuriating!”

“Yeah, I’m kind of amused that you’re talking to me about Sugawara when that’s not who you want to quiz me about at all, is it?”

Tooru said nothing, but his mind worked overtime as he tried to figure out just why Iwaizumi had taken Tobio under his wing. He dismissed the idea that it was to help Karasuno – his loyalties were always to Seijou. Little Tykes was a place dear to them both, so maybe that was part of the reason, another could be that it was purely to annoy him. But ... there was something else going on. He was sure of it.

He eyed him closely, watching his hands on the steering wheel, not gripping tightly, and his brow was smooth, not strained and concertinaed. Usually when he drove, his shoulders would be hunched, but today, Iwaizumi, even after an interminably long rehearsal where all he’d done was coax Tobio and listen to squabbles, was relaxed.

“It’s guilt, isn’t it!” he exclaimed, aiming his arrow.

“What’s guilt?”

“The reason you’re working with Tobio-chan.”

Iwaizumi slowed as he took the next corner. “Why would _I_ feel guilty?”

_So that’s how it was._ He licked his lips, and then aimed another arrow. “What did Sugawara-san say to you?”

“N-Nothing.” Iwaizumi swallowed, and kept his eyes firmly on the road, far more conscientious than usual. His hands gripped at the steering wheel. “You decided to get involved, Oikawa. It was interesting, that’s all. But then ... _you_ wound Kageyama up. He wasn’t even in the damn pantomime and you kept on at him.”

“Guilt, as I said.”

The car screeched to a halt, and the relaxed mood Iwaizumi disappeared instantly. “Get out,” he seethed.

“Why? Because I’m right?”

“No, because you’re pissing me off, and I don’t want to crash.”

Raising his eyebrows, Tooru released the latch on the door handle, and picked up his bag.  He was nearly home anyway, and the fresh air would do him good. But before he levered his long legs out of Iwaizumi’s tiny rust bucket of a car, he leant across and murmured, “Junior High was a long time ago, and I think Tobio’s proved he’s over that, don’t you?”

 “It isn’t guilt!” Iwaizumi insisted, through gritted teeth.

“Really? Because you’re snapping at me and siding with _them_ incredibly easily,” Tooru murmured, and giving him a last small smile, he got out of the car, and slammed the door behind him.

Iwaizumi didn’t drive off immediately, and Tooru dawdled along the street, waiting for him to call out, to explain what was going on, but there was no shout, and the car didn’t move.

They passed the next three days avoiding any conversation about the pantomime. Both went to rehearsals, sometimes arriving and leaving together, but didn’t interact.  It wasn’t like previous arguments, and Tooru knew Iwaizumi wasn’t angry, as such, but he was brooding. His silence wasn’t poisonous, but he recognised that Iwaizumi needed some time to withdraw, for whatever he was wrestling with in his head.

 

“Kageyama, remember to smile,” Ennoshita was saying, when they arrived at the dress rehearsal.

Tooru clicked his tongue, but catching Iwaizumi’s scowl, didn’t say anything else. With his head tilted to the side, he studied Tobio, currently up on stage with Yachi. He wasn’t frowning, but that was about the best that could be said for his expression.

“How hard can it be?” he pondered, then winced when he realised he’d said it out loud. “I’m not criticising, Iwa-chan, I’m curious, that’s all.”

“He’s not good at faking things,” Iwaizumi murmured.

“Well, neither are you,” Tooru replied, smiling because it was a relief to have Iwaizumi talking properly again. “Always losing your temper so violently. Never covering up your frustration.”

“Ha – yeah, but I know I’m angry, and know what I look like. Kageyama’s ... uh ... it’s like he doesn’t realise what he looks like. Or he doesn’t get that the first impression he gives is important. Doesn’t realise how he comes across. Suga told me he genuinely doesn’t get how he comes across.”

_It’s Suga, now,_ Tooru thought, and was suddenly, irrationally, annoyed.

“Tell him to look in a mirror!” he snapped.

“OH!” Iwaizumi smiled. “Hey, not a bad idea. Thanks, Oikawa.”

“I’m full of them,” he muttered.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. I need to get changed. See you later.”

“Uh ... yeah, sure,” Iwaizumi’s attention was still on the stage, waiting for the scene to end. “Kageyama -kun,” he called, “I’ve got an idea.”

Stalking to the back of the hall, Tooru wrenched open the side room door where the men’s changing room was. It was practically empty, only Futakuchi and Aone were there, both in costume, and sitting around waiting to be called. Aone looked up from the volleyball magazine he was reading and nodded a hello, but Futakuchi, playing on his phone, gave him a smirk.

“What’s got you in such a foul mood, Oikawa? That expression would sour milk!”

“Nothing that need bother you,” he growled. “Why aren’t you wearing make-up?”

“They’re waiting for someone,” Futakuchi said. “Hoshi’s made a start, but she’s kinda busy, so someone else is coming along.” He looked back at his phone, tapped a button, then a flash of irritation crossed his face. “Damn, out of charge. Aone-kun, lend me yours.”

“No.” He turned his back on Futakuchi.

“Ah, was worth a try. So, Oikawa-san, you got anything I can read?”

“No, and you’re not having my phone either.”

“Shame. We’ll have to have a conversation instead,” Futakuchi replied. He leant forwards. “So, why are you in a strop? Have the girls been ignoring you?”

“Go and find someone else to annoy, Futu-chan,” Tooru said, smiling sweetly. “My nephew will be here soon, he’s about your mental age.”

“Can’t be Kageyama,” Futakuchi said, studying him closely. “You annoy him, not the other way around. Has Sawamura-san finally lost it with you?”

“No and no, I’m perfectly fine. Except for the idiot talking to me now,” Tooru replied curtly. He threw his bag in the corner, it knocked a table leg, and a large orange pumpkin slid around on the table. “What the heck is that?”

“That bearded guy... uh ... Azumane, he made it,” Futakuchi supplied. “Not bad, is it?”

“Why didn’t they buy a real one?”

“I dunno. They’re quite heavy, though, and I’m guessing Cinders couldn’t carry it.” He blushed a little, and Tooru found himself smirking.  “She’s quite little, isn’t she? Sort of ... um ... delicate,” Futakuchi finished.

“And has a whole team of bodyguards protecting her not to mention a Fairy Godmother. You’ll never get near her, Futa-chan,” Tooru scoffed, but it was half-hearted, a matter of habit to mock.

Futakuchi glowered, and looked as if he was about to phrase a reply, but the next minute, he and Aone were called out of the room, leaving Tooru alone.  He flicked over to the clothes rail, picking out his costume (a hideous parody of a dress in lurid pink, with a bustled skirt, full length at the back but raised at the front to show off his knees. Ennoshita had gulped when he’d handed it to Tooru, murmuring something about finding a costume, and had impressed on him that it was a pantomime tradition to have the Dame look ridiculous, and the more laughs he could muster would really help the opening scenes, and Tooru had agreed, amused taht the director was spending so much time impressing this most obvious of facts on him.

 But today he didn’t feel in the mood for laughter, so instead of getting changed, he flopped onto a chair, and picked up Aone’s magazine.

There was an article about Spring High. He wanted to flipp past it, but then he caught sight of a picture of Karasuno, beaming their heads off. “Idiots,” he muttered darkly.  He faltered, his eyes focusing on Kageyama. “You don’t even smile when you’ve won, do you, Tobio-chan.”

“Hey, where did you get to?”

“Came straight here,” Tooru replied, not looking up from the magazine, even when Iwaizumi approached.

“Futakuchi said you were sulking.”

He flipped a page over, pretending to read an article on one of Tokyo’s university teams. “I don’t sulk. He’s annoyed because he has a crush on Cinders and I told him he had no chance.”

“You’re not even changed, Oikawa. Come on, Suga wanted to go through ‘It’s Raining Men’  first before the rehearsal starts.”

“And you’re his messenger boy now, are you, Iwa-chan? How lovely for you!” he said, and mentally kicked himself because he knew he sounded waspish.

“What the hell are you on about?” Iwaizumi asked, and then, unforgivably, he started to laugh. “Oh my god, I don’t believe it, you’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“Rubbish!” Tooru closed the magazine, throwing it on the floor. “You just seem ... how shall I put it ... overfriendly with our rivals, that’s all.”

Iwaizumi removed two bottles of juice from his bag, and sitting alongside Tooru, held one out to him. “I didn’t think this was about taking sides, Oikawa,” he muttered.  “I thought you getting involved in the pantomime meant you were over this rivalry with Kageyama.”

“How can I? We’re both Setters!” He snatched the juice from Iwaizumi’s hand, ripping off the top, and taking a gulp.

“That’s exactly what he said,” replied Iwaizumi, taking a more measured sip from his own bottle.

“Is this where you tell me that Tobio-chan reminds you of me, and that’s why you’re helping him!”

“Uh...” He screwed up his nose, considering the question. “No, not really. Suga said something like that. I mean, he was trying to make parallels between the pair of you, but apart from you both being Setters,” he smiled across at Tooru, “extremely good Setters that both work hard, there’s no real comparison.”

Tooru was silent. He still didn’t get it, didn’t understand why Iwaizumi was putting himself out for Tobio, who was every shade of awkward and stroppy and non-understanding.

Running a hand over his hair, making it stick up far more than usual, Iwaizumi sighed. “Remember when we first became friends?”

“That ghastly birthday party,” Tooru murmured, “Mmm, I remember.”

“No, that’s where we met. I don’t think we were exactly friends. What I’m talking about is when we decided that we liked hanging out together.”

“Oh, when we played volleyball.”

“Yeah, at Little Tykes.”

“You wore those awful stripy shorts, with beetle buttons.”

“You wore alien t-shirts, so don’t mock me for my clothes sense, Assikawa,” Iwaizumi retorted, but the edge was missing. He nudged him. “You were the first friend I had, you know that?”

“Nonsense!” Then he turned his head, and smiled at Iwaizumi. “Was I really?”

“Yeah. I was a bad tempered kid in those days.”

Tooru bit his lip. He was desperate to reply, to laugh and mock that really Iwa-chan hadn’t changed at all because he was always shouting, always in a bad temper about something, but he resisted because he Iwaizumi had a wistful look in his eye.

“Everyone ran a mile. But you just laughed at me,” Iwaizumi said at last. “Even when I punched you.” Letting his head roll back, he stared at the ceiling. “Tobio reminds me of me, ‘cept he wasn’t lucky enough to have a friend to laugh him out of his temper.”

Tooru let out a wisp of a sigh, so quiet he didn’t think Iwaizumi had heard him. He got to his feet and walked to the costume rail, feeling altogether relaxed now, and happy, not triumphant, but it was like winning a practise match, and knowing you’d played well.  Removing his shirt and tracksuit bottoms, he pulled the Dame’s dress over his head, and fussed at the sleeves.

“Help me get changed, would you? There’s some sort of corset to this dress, and I’ve no idea how to lace it up.”

“Yeah, sure. Iwaizumi tossed back the rest of his drink, then spluttered. “How am I supposed to know how to lace up a – Oh, shit!”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve spilt juice all down me. Ugh!”

Tooru turned, Iwaizumi wasn’t exaggerating. His white shirt was covered in blackcurrant juice, as well as his trousers, he’d obviously emptied more than half the bottle over himself.

“There’s a spare shirt and some shorts in my bag,” he said. “Help me with this, first, will you?”

“I’m saturated. Just give me a moment,” Iwaizumi replied, stripping down to his boxers.

There was a knock at the door, and a voice calling, “Are ya decent?”

“Sure!” Tooru replied.

“No, I’m not!” Iwaizumi muttered, and now panicked, he rifled through Tooru’s bag, desperately searching for clothes.

“Hear ya need make-up,” said a girl sashaying in, carrying a large box. She exhaled, blowing a choppy fringe out of her eyes. “Glory, ain’t you handsome!”

Tooru smirked, ready to use his widest smile on her, because when he looked at her properly, he realised she was _hot_. Wearing jeans, a red jersey and leather jacket, she’d made no particular effort to dress up, but there was something very sexy about her.   And then he saw where she was looking. At the flustered, embarrassed crouched figure of his friend.

He coughed. “Iwa-chan is very clumsy. He’s also not in the pantomime, so you don’t need to bother with him.”

“Ah, shame,” she said. Looking reluctant, she dragged her eyes away, and plonked her bag on the table. “Oh, I recognise you. You’re the serve guy, ain’t ya?”

“Mmm, Oikawa Tooru,” he said, eyeing her a little warily now because he didn’t remember seeing her in the stands. But then again, he had been on the local news, and in Volleyball Monthly.  Although, now he studied her, she seemed familiar. “Have we met?”

She shook her head. “Nope, I watched one of your games.” Her eyes slid to Iwaizumi, who’d hurriedly pulled on a shirt. “I think you were playin’ as well. Seijou’s ace, right?”

“Uh, yeah, Iwaizumi Hajime,” he muttered, giving her an odd sort of bow, as he pulled on some shorts. “Oikawa, if you don’t need me, then I’ll ... uh ...”

“No, stay and lace me into this thing, Iwa-chan. I’m sure –” He gave the girl another smile. “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Tanaka Saeko,” she said, and taking off her jacket, she started to sort through her make up box. “You know my brother.”

“Monk-chan’s your brother!”

“Stop it!” Tooru hissed, clapping his hand over Iwaizumi’s mouth.

She perked her head up. “What was that?”

“Nothing!” Tooru cried, releasing Iwaizumi. “My friend is ... uh ... very shy of girls.”

“Really?” She peered closer, and blew him a kiss. “You got no need to be shy, honey. You’re cute as a button.” And then she burst into a peal of laughter. “And even cuter when you’re flustered. Don’t worry, I ain’t after ya, sweetheart. I got a gorgeous boyfriend, and sweet as ya are, I think you’re a little too young for me.”

Picking up a few items from the box, she arranged them on the table, then beckoned to Tooru. “Come on then, handsome, let’s make ya beautiful. Or should that be ugly? You’re the Dame, ain’t ya?”

Only slightly abashed by her forwardness, Tooru nonetheless pulled up a chair and sat opposite her. The dress was hanging off his shoulders exposing his chest, but Saeko didn’t seem the least bit perturbed, and chatted away as she worked. “Chin up, I need to blend this foundation into ya neck,” she said, smearing his skin with a sponge. “Hmm, that tall girl’s a bit pissed at me for comin’ in here. She wanted to see to you. But ...” She leant back, reaching for a tube and with her fingertips dotted it onto his cheeks. “I think she’d’ve made ya too pretty, Oikawa-kun.”

“Don’t say that. He doesn’t need anymore flattery,” Iwaizumi grumbled.

“Now now, jealousy is an ugly trait, Iwa-chan,” Tooru bickered.

“Uh ... Sorry, I’ll come back...”

The three of them looked up at the door. Kageyama was hovering there. Tooru rolled his eyes, but under Iwaizumi’s glare said nothing.

“What ya after, Kageyama-kun?” Saeko asked.

“They’re looking for Hinata.”

“Not in-” Tooru started to say, but Saeko interrupted.

“He’s in the corner.”

“Thank you...”  He strode over to the table, looked all about, then frowned at her. “Uh, that’s a pumpkin.”

“Darn it, ya right,” she declared, giggling. “Ah, I nearly got ya to smile though, didn’t I, Grumpy-kun?”

Kageyama stood there, dumbfounded, clearly not at all sure what to make of Saeko Tanaka, torn between showing her respect, and wanting to snap something back. Tooru had a feeling Saeko would have taken anything Kageyama said in good part,even if he was very much her junior.

And then Saeko stopped what she was doing and looked straight at him. “Your make-up’s awful. I don’t know what that girl’s done to your face, but ya far too pale. Take a seat and I’ll sort ya out.”

“No.” He shook his head violently and began to back out of the room. “It’s fine.”

“Won’t take a minute,” she called out, sounding casual, but there was a steely determination in her voice. Her eyes flicked to Iwaizumi, and nodding, he got up, and grabbed Kageyama’s arm and propelled him into a chair.

“If you get dressed now, Oikawa-kun, I’ll finish ya in a bit,” she murmured, but I just wanna –“ She reached into her bag, pulled out some wipes and slid them across Kageyama’s brows. “They were too heavy. You looked as if you were scowling.”

“He probably was,” Tooru drawled, then dodged Iwaizumi’s punch to the arm.

“Quiet you,” she scolded. “Or I’ll use depilatory cream instead of mascara. Now, then, let’s make ya a little darker, take some shine off ya nose, and ...” She perused him, then with her hand, ruffled his hair up, twisting it into a quiff. “Make ya even more handsome.” Sighing, when Kageyama glowered and flattened his hair down, she continued, “None of you boys can take a compliment, can ya? Ryuu’s just the same. Noya, on the other hand ... Okay, you’ll do for tonight, but get me to do your make-up tomorrow, alright? And, Kageyama ...”

“Yes?”

“Lighten up, darlin’. Ya gotta sweep Cinderella off her feet.”

At that moment, Iwaizumi pulled the laces on Tooru’s dress really tight. It was a warning to say nothing, but some devil took hold. “We’ve been telling him that all week, but my adorable kouhai can’t even raise a smile. Prince Charml- OW! That hurt Iwa-chan!”

“Then shut up!” Iwaizumi started to shout.

“Hmm,” Saeko murmured, silencing them both with a flap of her hand, She gazed at Tooru, beaming and fluttering her eyelashes. “I bet you have a smile that lights up the whole room, don’t ya, darlin’.”

Unable to stop the instinctive response to her flattery, he smiled back, licking his upper lip.

“Tch!” She leant forwards, all wide eyes and smirk, and tapped his knee. “Guess I was wrong.”

And then, while Iwaizumi laughed, she twisted around to Kageyama. “Saw ya grin then, Grumpy-kun. Ya can’t deny it.”

And it was true, his lips had curved into a smile, but it was all too fleeting and in the next moment, Kageyama turned on his heel and fled the room.

“Gah, that kid!” Saeko exclaimed. “Annoyed the hell out of me when I first met him, but some of them ya just wanna hug till they come right.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is supposed to be five chapters, but I've been so blown away by the response to this, that it might be six ...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which first night nerves plague some of the cast, and just what are Iwa-chan and Suga plotting ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I hope you're still following and enjoying the story. I think this is the penultimate chapter, so one more and then I'm done. 
> 
> This was fun and a bit silly but is shorter than other chapters.
> 
> Mention of marshmallows in this story is a headcanon of mine.

Despite the pain from her ankle, and the boredom from lying in a hospital bed, Michimiya Yui could see the compensations in having an injury. The first of these were the bunch of flowers from the cast, which had just been delivered. And the second was that the pair who’d delivered them, were currently sitting by her bedside and spending more time talking to her about something other than volleyball than they had in years.

“It’s coming together then, Suga?” she asked.

“Uh-huh. Just had the dress rehearsal and finally Daichi’s getting into the swing of it.”

“Is he singing?” She peeped under her lashes at her other visitor, who was sitting the other side of her bed, flicking through a magazine (volleyball naturally).

“No, I am not!” Daichi scowled at them both. “Suga’s worked out a way that I can talk the song.”

“Gah,” she said and winced as she levered herself into a more comfortable position. “I wish I could be with you guys. It’s so boring in here.  How’s Kiyoko doing?”

“Oh, really well!” Suga said, grinning. Then his smile faltered and he toned down the enthusiasm. “N-not nearly as good as you, obviously, but ... uh ... you know, standing in at such short notice, she’s ... um ... coping well.”

Yui raised her eyebrows and shot a glance at Daichi. “And how’s Kageyama?”

“Uh, fine,” he replied. “He knows the words, can sing, and Yachi’s okay with him. Just ...”

“Can’t smile to save his life,” Suga finished. “Good dancer, though.”

“Mmm, that surprised me,” Daichi mused. He leant towards the bedside cabinet, helping himself to grapes. Yui slapped his hand, but not before he’d plucked three off their vine.

“Why should it surprise you, Sawa-chan?” came a voice from the door. “Setters are nimble on their feet, unlike Wing Spikers with your _sturdy_ thighs.”

Yui grinned as Daichi groaned, for there standing in the door, was Oikawa and as she looked behind him, Iwaizumi carrying something in a bag.

“We’re not interrupting are we?” he said, not immediately following Oikawa as he sauntered into the room.

“No, no,” she replied, still beaming. “You might need more chairs ... although ... uh ...” Creasing her brows, she fixed Suga with a look, imperceptively twitching her head towards the door.

Suga smirked, and for one moment she regretted her action, not entirely sure what he’d do, but then he got to his feet. “We need to leave, don’t we, Dai?”

“Do we?”

“Yeah, we’ve got a ... you know.”

“What? I’m right in the middle of this article, Sug.”

“Take it with you,” Suga suggested, giving Yui a wink. “I’m sure Michimiya won’t mind.”

“I’ve read it,” she assured him, then in a firmer voice said, “Good luck for the show, Sawamura-san.”

“Uh ... sure.” He stooped and bowed a little, then huffed out a breath. “Glad you’re looking okay. We all ... uh ... miss you.” He smiled, a little confused. “Still can’t believe I’m actually involved in this show.”

“Neither can we,” Oikawa said, smirking.

“What?”

“Oikawa...” Iwaizumi warned.

“Ah, you’re a natural,” Suga said quickly. “You’ll bring the house down.” He got to his feet, sliding the chair towards Oikawa, but he’d wandered across to the side of the bed where Daichi had been, brushing past him as he walked by.

“Bye-bye, Dai-chan,” he said, and pouted his lips into a kiss. “See you tomorrow, Baron.”

Yui stifled a nervous giggle, but it was hard. In all her years knowing Daichi, she’d never seen him so wound up by someone, not even the basketball captain, but Oikawa was able to do something now that he’d never done on the court,  get under Daichi’s skin, seemingly without even trying. She saw Suga flinch as Daichi eyed the Seijou captain darkly.

“Oh-kay, let’s go,” Suga murmured, his hand outstretched to pluck Daichi’s sleeve. “Take care, Yui-san.”

“Thanks for the flowers, guys, and the grapes,” she said, her eyes still on Daichi as he studied Oikawa. “Give everyone my love, won’t you?” A pause. “Daichi?”

“Huh?”

She coughed. “I’d tell everyone to break a leg, but ... uh ...”

And then one corner of his mouth lilted upwards, Daichi turned away from Oikawa, and stepped back to her. “Take care, Micchan, we’re all missing you.”

“Nicely done,” Iwaizumi said in undertone, and took Suga’s vacated chair. “I should take lessons.”

“I wasn’t Captain for nothing,” she muttered out of the side of her mouth. “I’ve had to deal with Hoshi. Compared to her, these boys are pussycats.”

 

“Sawamura’s right about one thing,” Oikawa said after they’d gone. Sighing, he flopped down into a chair. “We do all miss you, Yui-san.”

Surprised she wasn’t blushing, Yui raised one eyebrow. “Really?”

“Uh ... yeah,” Iwaizumi muttered.

And then she blushed, deciding her hands pleating her sheet were very interesting. “Um, why?” she asked, her voice a little quavery.

“You’re fun,” Oikawa replied. “And you were very good at keeping that Hoshi girl in check. Director-kun’s still a bit wary of her.” He chewed his lip. “Wonder if he fancies her.”

Iwaizumi snorted. “You think everything’s about ‘fancying’. Some people are just friends, or not friends.” He turned to Yui. “Oikawa assumes that because every girl fancies him, we’re jealous, and that’s why he’s got no friends.”

“You are jealous, Iwa-chan. And it’s true.”

“No, you’re disliked because you’re a prick.”

Expecting him to be mortally affronted, Yui was surprised when Oikawa laughed. “You see what I have to put up with. Even my best friend can’t say nice things about me.”

“Only friend,” countered Iwaizumi. “And it’s the truth. You wind people up. You like doing it, then you moan that no one likes you.”

“So...” Yui peered at Iwaizumi. “Why have you stuck with him?”

“He pays me,” Iwaizumi deadpanned, and then he laughed. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know, but we’ve known each other for years, so ... habit, I guess.”

“He is _so_ rude to me,” Oikawa retorted, but there wasn’t any malice in his tone, and Yui got the feeling this was normal for them.  “Anyway, it’s _not_ the same without you, Yui. And having Tobio-chan as-“

“Watch it!” Iwaizumi snapped.

Oikawa sighed. “I’m behaving. I was only going to say that having darling Tobio-chan as a stand in is making things fraught.”

“Suga says he’s not smiling.”

“He does try,” Iwaizumi said after a while, “but it’s kinda ... awkward. It’s like ...”

“It’s like he’s about to drown cute puppies in a vat of acid. And Cinders still flinches when he stomps on stage,” Oikawa drawled and purposely ducked. 

But Iwaizumi didn’t react, at least not violently. He sat back in his chair and groaned. “I just don’t know what to do anymore. Maybe it’s not that important, or maybe he’ll get up there on the night and something will take over. It’s just ...” Gritting his teeth, he banged his head back onto the headrest. “What will it take?”

“Maybe he’s nervous?” she suggested.

They both hooted. “That kid has more nerve than anyone else apart from him,” Iwaizumi laughed, jerking his thumb at Oikawa.

“He might be hiding it,” she said. “It’s hard to smile if you’re terrified.”

Iwaizumi considered. “I don’t think so. He’s ... um ... Kageyama’s always been –“ He glanced at Oikawa. “Confident isn’t the right word, but he’s ... um ... kind of nerveless –”

“I know I said he didn’t have the nerve to play the part, but actually Tobio-chan doesn’t understand the concept of being frightened,” Oikawa finished. “It really does not compute with him.”

“That’s on a volleyball court,” she remarked dryly. “Getting up on stage is getting right out of his comfort zone.”

“Could be right,” Iwaizumi said, and glanced at Oikawa. “Thanks.”

“What did I do?”

“You’re being perceptive and not slating him. I appreciate that.”

“I do _want_ the show to work,” Oikawa replied, sounding haughty. “Which is why it’s a shame you threw yourself down the stairs, Yui-san.” He paused, and then patted her hand. “How long will you be in here for?”

She squeezed his hand, grateful for the contact. “Hard to say. The ankle’s broken, which isn’t as much of a problem as you’d think, but I tore a tendon as well. I’m sure I could be discharged, but ... um ... there’s no one to look after me at home, so ... uh ... it’s best I stay here for a while.” She pouted. “I’m bored out of my brain though. It’s great of the guys to visit, but they brought me volleyball magazines, and really ...”

“Ah, that reminds me. The bag, Iwa-chan.”

“What did your last servant die of, Asskawa?” he muttered darkly, but reached over for the bag, handing it to Oikawa across the bed.

“We bring you ... magazines,” Oikawa declared, and with a fanfare pulled out several volumes. “Also a book or two, and ... chocolate!”

Her eyes opened wide, for there on the bed were four magazines – not about volleyball or any sport – but more geared for young women. And the books ... Mysteries with a female detective, a little dog-eared, but he’d actually gone through _his_ collection and selected what he thought she might like.

“Thank you!” she said and beamed at him. “This is so thoughtful.”

Oikawa, to her surprise, went a little pink. “I had help,” he admitted. “Chibi-chan’s sister and Takeru said you might like exciting things if you’re bored. The magazines, I got my sister to select, or you’d have had My Little Pony, and the books, I’ve not read them myself but -”

“They’re mine,” Iwaizumi interrupted. He smiled a little sheepishly. “I like detective stories, and the protagonist is cool, so ... uh ... yeah ... if you like them, I’ve got a load more.”

***

“Who are you texting?” Oikawa asked.

Hajime looked up from his phone, to find they were already at his home, Oikawa having parked outside his apartment block. “Oh, sorry, didn’t realise we were back.”

“You were thinking very intensely, Iwa-chan. You need to stop that.”

“Hmm, yeah, maybe.” Hajime sent his message, and reached into the back for his bag.  “Thanks for the lift. I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“Who were you texting?” Oikawa repeated. His eyes widened. “Is it Yui-san?”

“No! Why would it be?”

Oikawa shrugged. “Just thought ...Who then?”

Grinning, Hajime opened the car door. “Secret. Tell you tomorrow ... maybe.”

“You’re infuriating, Iwa-chan.”

“HA!  Makes a change to be on the receiving end, doesn’t it!” His phone rang, and checking who it was, he clambered out of the car and smirked at Oikawa.  “Hi there. Yeah, I’m home now,” he said into the receiver, then waving a hand at Oikawa, Hajime walked towards the door. “Suga, thanks for getting back to me. I’ve got an idea ...”

***

Shouyou felt surprisingly calm the night before the show. Having learnt his lines, he felt at ease because he was having fun with his friends and senpais. He was, however, worried for Yachi, which was why instead of messaging Kenma, he was talking to her on the phone.

“What if I forget the words?”

“You learnt them all before anyone else,” he told her. “And you helped me with mine. You’re going to be fine.”

“What if I lose my voice?” She coughed and cleared her throat. “I’m sure I have a cold coming. I sneezed three times during rehearsal.”

“I thought that was from the flowers, Daichi-san brought in for Michimiya-san. You said you had an allergy.”

“B-but what if I’m wrong,” she babbled. “I might go all croaky on stage, or have a coughing fit. What if I’m too ill? Or my temperature’s too high. Should I take some medicine just in case?”

“YACHI!” he yelled. “You don’t have a cold. And you won’t lose your voice. You’re going to be amazing!”

He heard her breathing slow, her terrorised pants becoming even, and then her voice cracked. “What if Kageyama-kun forgets his words.”

Shouyou laughed. Yachi fluffing a line on stage was possible, but Kageyama knew his words, and everyone else’s, inside out. “He won’t.”

“He might get stage fr-fright, or forget which song he’s singing,” she whinnied. “Hinata, what will I do if he forgets how to dance?”

“Uh...”  He chewed his lip. Shouyou had complete confidence in Kageyama and knew he wouldn’t mess up, but relaying that to Yachi was hard when she was in this state. He took a deep breath and said brightly. “It’ll be fine because he has you there, Yachi, and you’ll be able to take his hand and dance with him.”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I can help him, can’t I?”

“Uh-huh, and Yamaguchi will be there with him. Kageyama’s going to be fine. Hey, I’m sure he’s practising his smile right now.”

He laughed, but the silence at the other end of the phone told him he’d said entirely the wrong thing.

“Wh-what if he doesn’t smile?” Yachi whispered. “Or worse he does that crazy psycho smile. All the children will be terrified.”

“Uh ...” Shouyou’s eyes roamed around the room, finally settling on the computer, where a message box suddenly flickered to life. It was Kenma. Shouyou wriggled on his chair, desperate to read the message and reply, but knowing he had to placate Yachi before she went into another meltdown. “Then you do more smiling, Yachi,” he said quickly. “It’s like when I’m with Kenma, and he doesn’t talk much, so I talk more, and then he replies, and before we know it we’re both laughing about something. He says I’m infectious. And I think you are, too.” He gulped. “I don’t mean actually infectious. I’m sure you haven’t got a cold, or anything wrong with you, so don’t start thinking about that again, or germs or ... or ... or ...”

She giggled, not hysterically, as finally she let go of the fears plaguing her. He heard a huge exhale of breath and then the sing-song voice wishing him good luck and goodnight.  

Relieved, he leapt onto his computer. _‘Shouyou, you’ve got the pantomime tomorrow, haven’t you?’_

‘Uh-huh!’

_‘Good luck. Are you nervous?’_

‘Thanks.  And I’m not.  How’s practise? Played any games recently?’

_‘Yeah. Gearing up for Nationals. We’ve got some matches coming up soon.’_

‘You know we’re gonna beat you, right?’

_‘So you say.’_

‘We will!!’

_‘We’ve got to play each other first. How’s Kageyama now?’_

‘He’s good. Not getting wound up by the Grand-King as much. Who you playing next?’

_‘Uh ... not sure I should tell you. The coach and Kuro want all the matches kept secret.’_

Shouyou grinned, immersing himself into the chat with Kenma, and practically all thoughts of the pantomime left his mind. He wasn’t nervous; he couldn’t be because it was volleyball that made his heart pound fast and churn his guts.

***

Ryuu was restless. He got up in the night twice, not for the toilet, and then couldn’t get back to sleep. Thing was, no matter how much he tried to tell himself it wasn’t important – like it wasn’t a match or qualifying for Nationals or nothin’ like that – he was scared about tomorrow. He’d agreed ‘cause Noya had and he thought it’d be fun.  And it had been fun. It had still been fun even when Oikawa joined them, ‘cause despite the fact that he thought him a prick and a tosser and a pretty boy whose face he wanted to punch, the guy was pretty good on stage and had even found the time to talk to Ryuu, prompting him when he forgot his lines.

That was the other thing. He thought he had all his lines, but that rehearsal he fluffed a load of them, and it was only ‘cause Noya and Oikawa covered for him that he got out of it. Chikara hadn’t looked mad exactly, but he’d raised his eyebrows. It was Suga-san saying somethin’ like a bad dress rehearsal made a good performance that had calmed him down. That and the three slaps round the face when he found himself getting irate again. 

He touched his cheek. It hurt when he opened his mouth. It hurt when he lay on the pillow. He didn’t remember it hurting like that after a match, even when he got a volleyball in his face, but somehow tonight it hurt.

“Hey, Ryuu-chan, what’s up?”

“Nuthin’,” he mumbled, avoiding his sister’s gaze.

“Hot chocolate?” she offered. “We can talk if ya want.”

“’M fine. You go back to bed, Neesan.”

“Nah, I’m up now. I got a late start tomorrow, and Keish don’t want to chat,” she replied, holding up her phone. “So ... what’s up?”

“Told ya. Nuthin’.”

“’Kay, well I’m makin’ chocolate, anyway, so might as well make you one.”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

Opening the cupboard, she pulled out a pan and filled it with milk.  Ryuu watched her, wondering why she always made it that way, and didn’t just chuck it in the microwave. Of course, the last time he’d done that, the milk had overflowed, and the cocoa powder hadn’t mixed in properly, so perhaps hot chocolate was something he was s’posed to take time over.

“I’m really proud of you, ya know?” she said, cutting through his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Learnin’ all those words, getting up on stage, singin’ those songs. You know you and Yuu are gonna bring the house down, don’tcha?”

He paused, stopping the automatic denial before it left his lips, ‘cause while Saeko was often supportive of most things he did, this time she sounded extra proud, ‘specially the fact that he’d learnt the words. And also, she was a drummer – a performer -so knew what she was talking about. “You think so?”

“Uh-huh.” She removed the pan from the stove, pouring the steaming milk into two mugs, then opened up the cupboard again. “Marshmallows?”

“Uh?”

“Promise ya they ain’t pink,” she teased.

“Sure. Thanks. And ... uh thanks for sayin’ all that stuff. I’m a bit ... uh ... nervous, I guess.”

“Ah, ya gotta feed on those nerves. That’s what gives ya the adrenaline ya need,” she started to say, then laughed a little. “Why am I tellin’ you that, Ryuu?  You know all about performing. I bet before a match ya get all nervy, don’tcha?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so. Kinda fires me up, though.”

“And it’ll be the same tomorrow,” she assured him, placing the mug on the table.

He glowered. “These are pink.”

“You’re playin’ an ugly sister, Ryuu. Ya gotta channel your feminine side,” she replied, and started to chuckle. Then, as he pulled another face, she pushed her mug, containing only white marshmallows, towards him. “Only kiddin’.”

***

Daichi lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.  He wasn’t nervous, not really, but there was a vague disquiet at the back of his mind, which was nagging at him and stopping him from sleeping.

For about the tenth time he checked his phone. It was midnight, so not that late, but he was usually asleep. Maybe that was why Suga hadn’t replied to his text. It would be like him not to want to wake him.

Thing was, he was awake and restless.

He started to tap out a message, then stopped when a faint sound – the phring he’d set as Suga’s tone -  indicated a text coming through.

_‘Why are you still awake?’_

Daichi smiled. ‘Not sleepy.’

_‘Unlike you. You nervous?’_

‘Restless’

_‘You’ll be fine.’_

‘what about you?’

_‘I’m okay. I only play a few tunes. No one’s looking at me.’_

‘Now I’m getting nervous.’

_‘Nah, just pretend it’s a match. Except it’s better because everyone’s on your side.’_

‘Even Oikawa. I came so close to socking him one when we visited Micchan.’

There was a pause, and Daichi wondered if Suga had gone, but he’d have said goodnight. Unless he was irritated because, at the moment, Suga was getting on well with Iwaizumi, to the point where they’d swapped numbers. Maybe he had Oikawa’s number, too.

‘You still there?’

_‘Sorry, had another text. Back now.’_

Daichi ‘s thumb hovered over the keys, but he couldn’t think how to phrase the question without sounding stupid.

‘Anything important?’

_‘Nope. All dealt with now.  Anyway, Oikawa likes winding people up - it’s just his way. Bit like you with Asahi’_

Stung, Daichi glowered at the screen, but maybe Suga had a point. ‘If he tries tomorrow, even if we’re on stage, i’ll whack him.’

  _‘Ah try not to. Won’t look good for the Baron to be backhanding his wife.’_

He yawned. ‘why are you so reasonable?’

_‘Vice captain’s job to calm the captain down –especially when he’s nervous and won’t admit it.’_

Daichi shifted position in his bed and smiled. Even though he wasn’t physically in the room, he could clearly see Suga smiling as he tapped out that last text. And it was true, he _was_ calmer now. He’d not wanted to admit he was nervous, but Suga had seen through that, and dealt with it.

‘I should sleep.’

_“Mmm, you should.’_

Goodnight and thanks, Sug.’

_‘NP. Now go to sleep xx’_

 

***

She was running, a terrified look on her face, through a forest and screaming for help. She was running so fast he was surprised she didn’t fall, and then, just as that thought entered his mind, she did fall, a stumble that should have merely slowed her down but instead propelled her off a cliff, where she was plunging down into the ice cold waters of a rock infested lake that had suddenly opened up beneath her.

And it was too late. It was far too late to save her, but still he leapt after her, stretching out his arms – just like Superman – in order to swoop down and catch her. He sped up. He could hear her screams, and the look of utter terror in her eyes as she took in an almost certain death.

He was gaining speed, the prize just before him, and then just as his fingertips touched her skirt, a sudden blow to the head, propelled him backwards. Another blow from above. He glanced up, and saw a cascade of volleyballs heading his way. He had to dodge them, but that would take him away from her.

And he was now heading down straight into the crocodile’s open jaws.

Crocodiles?

_What the fuck?_

Kenji jerked awake, his whole body in a sweat.

“It was just a dream, you dumbass,” he cursed, but it took several breaths to before he could lie back down again.

_Just ask her out. She’s a girl, not a crocodile. The worst that can happen is she says no. Or I get punched by Monk-chan._ He shrugged. _I’m bigger than him. Oikawa will laugh. Arsehole. But he’s not my senpai. And I bet I can out-talk him._

She might say yes.

_Oh hell, where would I take her? Maybe she’d be okay with coffee somewhere. Or cinema? Wonder if she’d let me kiss her?_

The thought that Yachi Hitoka might actually let him hold her hand, or peck her on the cheek was too much for him.

_I can’t ask her out,_ he thought miserably. _I’ll never sleep again._

***

Takanobue took a swig of water from the glass on his bedside cabinet, and settled into his bed. His phone beeped. He ignored it. It was either Kenji wondering again if he should ask the girl playing Cinderella out, or it was his cousin, who for some reason unknown to him, thought they were friends. It would be wrong to say he disliked Hoshi. He actually had no feelings towards her whatsoever – except a vague irritation because she was always talking. Very much like Kenji. Except with Kenji, when he got too annoying and loud, Takanobue could glare, or push him in the face. He couldn’t do that to a girl.

He readied himself for sleep. He lay on his back, arms by his side, legs only slightly apart and closed his eyes. As he drifted off to sleep one thought swirled in his mind.

_Hinata Shouyou. I will knock you down._

_***_

Chikara was at his desk. It was two in the morning, and although he knew he had a long, long day ahead, he couldn’t sleep. There were things to do. Things to check. Things that he could control and things he couldn’t.

**Stage** – tick  
 **Scenery** – tick (Coach Ukai, good as his word had pulled through with the help of Takinoue-san and Shimada-san, and everything was freshly painted and dry.)  
 **Costumes** – almost there. Ironically, Buttons had lost a button, which would need to be sewn back on. Noya had tripped on the hem of his dress, and a few of the sequins from Shimizu’s wings had dropped off, so she looked a little less sparkling on the right.  Saeko-nee-san had offered to sew, but as she was busy with make-up, he’d have a go himself.    


Okay, that was everything that was under his control. Now he was in the hands of others. He could take do no more, take it no further. He was relying on his cast, on Suga, Tsukishima and Narita to bring this home.

He was relying on Kageyama smiling.

Man, was he screwed.

 

***

  
Kageyama slept for eight hours straight.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Suga disappears with Iwa-chan, Chikara thinks he's cracking up, and Saeko-neesan kicks ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Lots of distractions including other fics, twitter, tumblr, new animes and cts, mean I started this later than I should have done. 
> 
> The song is Happy by Pharrell Williams and there's also a reprisal of Oikawa's audition piece :D

Chikara stopped himself from shouting only by staring straight ahead at the scenery, and clenching his hands into fists so tight that he thought his chewed down nails would break the skin. It had been an explicit instruction that everyone was to return to the Hall two hours before the start of the show. Yes, they’d been here most of the day. Yes, it had been frustrating for a lot of them, but it had been important to have a technical run through. And he’d not been totally inflexible, had he? He’d let them all scoot off to the gym for a practise game of volleyball. So they should have all returned.

And they all had.

Except for Suga.

Who should have been leading the vocal warm up.

“Daichi-san. Any idea where Suga-san is?”

“No,” he replied, sounding short. “He didn’t say, just that he’d be back soon.”

“Has anyone seen him? He’s supposed to be here to get you singing.” Chikara stared at them all, then looked over his shoulder. “Also, where’s Iwaizumi?”

“They left somewhere together,” Oikawa snapped and scowled. “Very annoying because Iwa-chan’s supposed to be helping lace me into that damn corset!”

“I’ll help ya,” Saeko called from the back of the hall. She stepped forwards, wending her way through the stacks of chairs.

“Uh...” For once Oikawa looked stunned, certainly, he stopped talking and stared open mouthed at her, and then he straightened his shoulders and smiled. “N-no thank you. I’ll wait-“

“I meant the warm-up, sweetheart,” Saeko called. She stopped walking, and touched Chikara on the arm. “What do ya want?”

“Uh ...” He surveyed them all. Yachi and Yamaguchi both shaking with nerves  -more so than the others, standing side-by-side Daichi and Oikawa glared moodily at some fixed point in the distance. Noya and Hinata wildly over excited, infecting Natsu and Takeru with their fidgety enthusiasm. And the rest were a mixture of over-hype and distraction, not a cast that had come together at all. Even Shimizu, usually so composed, was nervously fiddling with a ring and chewing the side of her mouth. Only Kageyama seemed unconcerned, staring woodenly at Chikara, waiting for instruction.

“Song, maybe?” Saeko whispered.

“Suga’s not here. And Kinoshita’s gone to fetch more water for backstage.” Chikara closed his eyes, took a deep breath and tried to unclog the plug in his throat. “Sorry, I can’t think straight. They’re all over the place, and usually all it takes is Suga-san to start playing, or ... uh ... in the case of Oikawa, having Iwaizumi around gets him fired up, but ...”

“Got it,” she said. “Leave it to me, Chikara-kun.”  She licked her lips, and started to smile.  “Okay, guys, I think we need a song to get us in the mood. Whaddyer say?”

“Okay.” Daichi nodded.

“Sure,” Oikawa agreed. But he looked grim.

“Hey, ain’t the pair of you captains?” she yelled. They jumped back, startled. “Liven up, guys!  Your team needs ya!

“Right,” she continued, striding forwards until she arrived at the stage. “Now, I get that ya all missing Sugawara’s smile, but let’s see what we can do.” Scowling fiercely, her eyes landed on her target. She reached out and plucked him closer. “Shorty-Giant-kun, show ‘em your widest grin.”

Immediately Hinata beamed at them all, the effect causing several of them to smile back instinctively.

“Not bad,” Saeko said, and ruffled his hair. “Yuu-chan, come on!”

“Me?”

“Uh-huh, honey. Ain’t no one as smooth as you when ya smilin’.”

Noya leapt to her side, ousting Hinata.

She started to prowl around the front of the stage, Chikara watched wondering what she was going to do next, then his eyes were drawn to Kageyama, his face still stern. _Please lighten up. Just one night, Kageyama, please._

“How d’ya feel when ya smile, Yuu?” Saeko demanded.

“Uh ... happy?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” she shouted, patting backwards across the floor. “Okay, this is what ya’ll gonna do. Watch this pair, ‘cause they’ve got smiles that can make ya melt, and then ... join in ...”

“Join in what?” Oikawa demanded. “We need a warm up not a smiling competition, although Tobio-chan-“

“ZIP IT!” she shouted, then shimmied towards him. “Oikawa-kun, you’ve got a good voice so how about we sing the finale song?

“ _It might sound crazy what I’m ‘bout to say_ ,” she began, draping one hand on his shoulder. Oikawa instantly grinned.

“ _Sunshine she's here, you can take a break,_ ” he crooned back to her.

“ _I'm a hot air balloon that could go to space,  
With the air, like I don't care baby, by the way,_ ”  they sang together.

“Daichi, take it away!” she ordered, spinning away from Oikawa.

“ _Because I'm happy_.” Daichi attempted to sing, his voice out of tune, but getting louder. Loud and strong.

“Kageyama!”

“ _Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof,_ ” he chanted, in perfect tune but without energy.

“Again, Grumpy-kun!” she ordered. “Give it some _oomph!_ ”

“ _Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof_ ... This is dumb!” he muttered.

“Huh?”

“Why would you be happy if you had no roof?”

“It’s just a song, dumbass!” Tanaka yelled.

“It’s a dumb song, Tanaka-san,” Kageyama replied and scowled. “Rooms should have roofs.”

Starting to clap, to pick up the beat, Saeko danced across to Kageyama, pulling the arm that was clamped firmly over his chest. “You could be right, sweetie, but at the moment we don’t have time to find Pharrell and let him know, so let’s just –”

“Rooms without roofs mean you can see the sky!” Natsu shouted, her face shining with excitement. “You can see the sunshine, Kageyama-san. And ... and ... and –”

“Crows flying!” Hinata yelled, bouncing around as he scooped up his sister. “ _Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof._ ”

“Bless ya, little Hinatas!”

_“Because I'm happy_ –” chirped Natsu, nodding her head, making her pigtails dance. _“Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth.”_

“All of you!” Saeko ordered. “And keep clapping. Ryuu-chan, smile at me!”

_“Because I'm happy,”_ he bellowed.

_“Clap along if you know what happiness is to you_  
Because I'm happy  
Clap along if you feel like that's what you wanna do.”

“Oikawa, second verse. Duet with ...” Her eyes flickered around. “Yacchan!”

“Me?” she squeaked.

“The one and only. Come and stand up front, honey. Rest of you, move around a bit, and get clappin’.”

_“Here come bad news talking this and that, yeah,”_ began Oikawa, and he was smiling down at Yachi, not smirking but genuinely lifting her spirits.

Staring up at him, her eyes huge, and with mounting confidence, Yachi joined in, as Oikawa took her hands and danced, letting her spin in and out, back and forth.

_“Well, give me all you got, and don't hold it back, yeah,_  
Well, I should probably warn you I'll be just fine, yeah,  
No offense to you, don't waste your time  
Here's why...”

“All of you!” Saeko yelled, twirling her arms in the air like a conductor.

Chikara watched, marvelling at how she’d suddenly, and so effortlessly boosted their morale. It was simple, so simple, and he should have been able to think of it, but he hadn’t. _I only have to hold it together for four more hours. Then I can die. That will be fine._ _Just let me last out,_ he thought, unaware he was shaking.

Someone was behind him, he swallowed and tried to shake off the stress hunching at his back. A familiar smell of musty smoke wafted towards him, and although he knew he shouldn’t show any weakness, Chikara felt oddly relieved that he’d turned up early.

“That’s my girl!” yelled Ukai, then clamping a hand on Chikara’s shoulder, he lowered his voice. “Don’t worry yerself, Ennoshita-kun. Saeko’s a performer, right. She knows how to get ‘em going.”

_“Because I'm happy_  
Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof  
Because I'm happy.”

***

“Are we going to get in shit for this?” Suga wondered out loud as they waited for the lift.

“Kidnapping’s an offence, so ... uh ... yeah, I guess so,” Iwaizumi muttered, and pulled his hood further over his face. “You’re not changing your mind on me, are you, Sugawara-san?”

Suga winked, and pulled his scarf up past his nose. “They have to catch us first, Iwaizumi-san.”

“Sugawara.”

“Mmm?” He turned his head.

“As we might end up in the same prison cell, you can call me by my first name.”

“Oh ... yeah, sure ... Ha-Hajime.”

“And ... um ... your name?”

Suga pulled a face. “It’s Koushi, but stick to Suga.”

“Cool.” Iwaizumi punched the lift button again. “Come on, you dumb thing.”

With heads down, the entered the lift, eyes averted from the camera. Catching sight of himself in the mirrored panels, Suga could only snort because their very appearance made them suspicious. He unwound the scarf, and leant back against the wall. Iwaizumi grinned at him and pulled down his hood.

“We look like we’re about to rob a bank,” he muttered.

“Is it actually kidnapping if the target comes with us willingly?” Suga asked.

“Uh ... dunno. Have you got the clothes?”

“Mmm, I raided my sister’s wardrobe,” Suga replied. The lift stopped with a thud, and he rolled his shoulders back. “Hajime, let’s rock and roll!”

Chuckling, Iwaizumi slapped him on the shoulder. “You make this sound like The Avengers.”

“Hmm, well, if this doesn’t work and I get arrested, then you might have to avenge me when Daichi and Ennoshita club me to death,” he muttered.

“Relax,” Iwaizumi chided. “We’ll be back in no time, and everyone’s gonna love us.”

_Except they don’t know what else I’ve done,_ Suga thought, and chewed his lip.

They crept along the corridors, eyes flickering from left to right, until the room was in sight. With just a desk to pass, Suga stared at the floor trying not to catch anyone’s attention. They should have thought this through, but really there’d been so little time once they’d decided.

(“She’s really bored.”

“Mmm, I know.”

“So ... um ... she told me that there was no one at home to look after her, and that’s why she’s stuck in the hospital...”

Suga sighed. “Her dad’s at work most of the time. Her brother’s striking out at some fancy boarding school, and her mum’s not there.”

“Huh? Oh!  Hell, is she dead?”

“No, no,” Suga hastily reassured him. “She’s looking after Yui-san’s grandmother. She lives on the South Island.”

“Okay, right, yeah.” Iwaizumi thought carefully. “If we’re doing this, it’ll have to be after the doctor’s afternoon rounds, which doesn’t give us much leeway time-wise.”

“We’ll manage,” Suga said, thinking of escape routes. “I’ve got a car, and can put my foot down.”)

 

“Stop worrying, Suga,” Iwaizumi murmured. “This’ll work.”

“Mmm.” He wrinkled up his nose, then smiled again, his previous worries evaporating. “You know I think it will. Especially as this is such a busy place, no one’s going to recognise us.”

“Here again, boys,” a nurse called as she brushed past them. “Michimiya-kun is a popular girl.”

“Well, that’s blown our anonymity,” Hajime murmured. “You certainly jinxed that! What are we going to do.”

“Okay ... let’s think this out,” Suga muttered and gnawed at the side of his mouth.  “We could uh ...just ... ask?”

“They might say no.”

“They _might_ say yes. And it would solve everything.”

“True.” Iwaizumi scowled, but Suga knew him well enough now to know he wasn’t angry, merely trying to work things out. “You ask.”

“Why me?” Suga yelped. “You’re taller.”

“What the fuck’s that got to do with it?” Iwaizumi huffed, although he pulled himself up to his full height, a whole five centimetres difference appeared between them.

“More authority.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got the charm, Sugawara,” Iwaizumi hissed. “Come on, they won’t turn you down.”

So, taking a deep breath, fully unwinding the scarf from his neck and unzipping his thick black jacket, to try and make himself look as unthreatening, friendly, and _charming_ as possible, Suga approached the reception desk.

He cleared his throat, swallowed and cleared his throat again, then tripped over his feet.

“Very smooth,” Iwaizumi sniggered.

“Shut up,” he hissed, and coming to a halt at the desk, he smiled. “Excuse me, I was wondering if –”

The nurse eyed him, her gaze stern. “Yes!”

“Uh ...” Suga gulped, wilting under her glare. “We’ve come to see our friend, and ... uh ... we were ... um ... wondering...”

“Yes, I recognise you from last night. You know where she is.”

“Um ...”

“Even smoother,” Iwaizumi muttered and pulled him away. “C’mon, let’s see Michimiya first, then we can work out what to do.”

She said ‘Come in’ in a lacklustre voice when they knocked, and it was clear by the way she didn’t immediately raise her head, but kept her eyes downcast that Michimiya was beyond bored, and was now upset.

“Hey there!”

“Huh?” Startled, Michimiya jerked her face towards them, a faint smile appeared, and then confusion. “Why are you here?”

“Not the best welcome I’ve ever had,” Suga replied, and winked at her. “Do you want us to leave?”

“N-no, It’s ... uh ...” She wriggled to a sitting position. “It’s not that I’m not pleased to see you, but isn’t it the show tonight?”

“It is,” Suga said, hiding the grin he felt because he’d noticed the flustered look in Michimiya’s eyes when she stared at Iwaizumi. “And that’s why we’re here to... uh ... bust you out of jail, Yui.”

“What?”

“We thought you might like to see the show,” Iwaizumi mumbled. “Oikawa wasn’t joking yesterday. They do miss you. But we’ve ... er ... been-”

“You came here for that!” she interrupted, and now her face was open and bright and delighted. “Oh, guys, that’s the best news I’ve had all week. When do we go?”

“Um ...” Iwaizumi glanced through the open door. “We sort of thought we should ask permission. Otherwise it’s kind of like kidnapping.”

“No, no.” She flapped her hand. “That’s not a problem. I am allowed out.”

Suga arched an eyebrow. Was it really going to be that easy? “You’re sure about that?”

She nodded eagerly, and fiddled with her hair, knotting it in her fingers.. “Kiyoko and Yacchan took me out yesterday. It was fine. I’m only here because Dad’s paying for the room. I could easily go home,” she gabbled, then her mouth dropped. “Oh, except I don’t have much to wear.”

“That’s not a problem,” Suga replied, and taking off his backpack, he placed it on the bed beside her. “Courtesy of my sister. Uh ... and don’t worry, she doesn’t like Hello Kitty anymore.”

After flinging her arms around him, almost sobbing her gratitude, Michimiya grappled with the bag, pulling out one t-shirt, a lacy blouse, a sweater, trousers and two skirts.

“I wasn’t sure what to do about trousers because most of Chiharu’s jeans are tight on the ankles, so I brought my mother’s yoga pants. But there are skirts if you’d rather.”

“Yoga pants are fine!” she said, and started to giggle. “You guys are the best!”

“Ah, it was Hajime’s idea. I’m just the driver,” Suga said, getting to his feet. “We’ll leave you to get changed and go and find a wheelchair, okay?”

***

Out in the car park, the wind had picked up, whipping Suga’s scarf across his face. Pulling it away from his eyes, his attention was caught  by Michimiya, who was looking all around her, checking every corner, entrance and exit, as Iwaizumi pushed the chair.

“Are you all right, Yui-chan?” Suga asked.

“Um... yes, yes... absolutely fine.  Just ... um ... maybe we shouldn’t take the wheelchair.”

“Why not?” Iwaizumi asked, his tone suspicious.  He stopped pushing. “Michimiya, where did Shimizu and Yachi take you when they visited?”

She muttered something.

“What was that?” Suga demanded.

“The cafe,” she said, biting her lip. “In the hospital. But ... uh ... we were there for two hours and no one noticed.”

With a helpless sort of smile, she twisted around to face Iwaizumi. “Please don’t take me back,” she implored. “I really want to see the show.”

Watching Iwaizumi make the decision was amusing in itself. He’d been the one to suggest the plan, but had been the most relieved when it seemed they’d be allowed to take her from the hospital.  It took him a mere second to go over the options in his mind. He exhaled, crooked a smile at her and Suga, and then bent down and scooped Michimiya into his arms.

“Suga, open the car, and then take the wheelchair back, will you? I’ll get the escapee comfortable.”

 

It was when he returned to the car to see Michimiya resplendent in the back seat, Iwaizumi chatting over his shoulder to her, that Suga felt his phone vibrate. “That’ll be Ennoshita worrying, or Daichi checking where we- ” He cursed as he pulled it out, then studied the screen. The name flashing up should not have been calling.

Not yet.

“Oh ...um ... excuse me. Sorry, I should take this,” he told them, answering the call.  “Hey, what’s up?”

 The voice wasn’t as loud as he remembered, or as brash. In fact, it was more imploring, desperate. “Suga-san, ya gotta help me. I lost him.”

Suga sighed, and closed his eyes. “I don’t need to ask who you’ve lost, do I?”

“What’s that?” Iwaizumi asked, on immediate alert.  “Has Kageyama done a bunk?”

Suga shook his head, motioning for Iwaizumi to keep quiet. “Okay, calm down,” he said. “Where are you?”

“At the station. We took the train, and were waitin’ for the bus, then he ... Suga, he’s somewhere in this god-awful town of yours, and I have no idea where he is.”

“Does he have his phone?”

“It’s out of charge.”

_Great!_

“He’ll have headed for somewhere with free Wi-Fi, I reckon. Do you have anywhere like that here, Sugawara?”

He could feel a muscle going in his cheek, and wasn’t sure whether it was because he wanted to laugh, or punch the caller in the face. “This is the countryside, not the wilderness. Of course we have internet cafes. There are at least three outside the station. Check there, and call me back.”

“Will do. And can you come and get us? Only the rest of the team went ahead.”

He checked his watch. They were already thirty minutes late. The station was ten minutes away. If all went well, then they’d be back with an hour to spare. It would be tight, but the vocal warm up could be done just before they went on.

“Yep,” he decided. “I can meet you.”

“Problem?” Iwaizumi asked as Suga tucked his phone away.

“Complication. We need to make a detour to the station. Text Ennoshita for me, will you?”

“The station?  Suga, we _need_ to get back. Oikawa gets ... uh ...”

“Nervous?  Really?”

“Mmm, really.  He just hides it well. The thing is, when he gets nervous what he does is wind everyone up around him. Our kouhais had to hold _me_ back _all_ the time. And I’m his friend. We don’t have time to spare, all right?”

“I know.” He closed his eyes, and prayed to whatever deity was watching over them that Daichi was keeping his cool because if Oikawa started on Kageyama then ... “I know,” he groaned, “but I have a couple of cats to rescue.”

***

 

“Ryuu?”

“Uh-huh?” Ryuu looked across at Noya as the latter straightened his dress. With over-done, garish make-up, he didn’t look at all female, more ... uh ... what was the word?  A caricature of a girl. Ryuu grinned, ignoring Saeko’s tuts as she adjusted his wig. “What’s up?”

“That Datekou guy?” Noya whispered.

“Which one?”

“Futakuchi.” Noya frowned. “I don’t trust him.”

“Why’s that, Yuu-chan?” Saeko asked, frowning as she tweaked Ryuu’s wig a little to the left.

“He keeps smiling,” Noya hissed, and bared his teeth.

“Uh...” Ryuu tilted his head to one side and frowned. “He’s always smilin’.”

“No,” Noya said and grimaced, the heavy foundation gathering in the creases of his brow. “He’s always smirking. But look at him now.”

Ryuu twisted his head over his shoulder, following Noya’s gaze before finally focusing on Futakuchi. He was in his guard’s uniform, make-up applied, and had nothing to do except apparently to stare at the mirror and murmur a few words, while widening his eyes. 

“See, that’s not normal. What’s he up to?” Noya hissed.

“Okay, you’re done, Ryuu-chan,” Saeko said. “One of you find Kageyama for me, will ya?”

“He’s with Cinders,” Oikawa interrupted as he walked across to the costumes rail. “I think they’re going through lines.”

At Oikawa’s words, Ryuu noticed Futakuchi turning round.

“You know,” Oikawa continued. “I’m impressed with that girl. I thought she’d have cracked before now, but she’s pretty good. Such a sweet voice... and ... oh ... those eyes. When we did that warm up earlier, I stared right into them. Makes me wish I was playing Prince Charming ...”

There was something weird about Oikawa. He was speaking to Saeko, but his attention was on the corner of the room. The corner where Futakuchi had been gazing at his reflection but had now whiplashed his attention towards them.

“Charming’s a _nice_ guy, though,” Futakuchi said, _sounding_ mild.  But then he added in a dripping-with-honey voice, reminiscent of Hoshi, “Not sure even your acting skills are up to that, Oikawa-san.”

“Pfft!” Oikawa waved his hand in the air, seemingly unbothered, but his eyes had narrowed. “I can make girls smile, Futa-chan. Tell me, when was the last time you did that, huh?” He paused, then looked over his shoulder, staring directly at Futakuchi. “Or ever.”

“You’re both crackin’ me up,” Saeko put in, and placing her hand on Oikawa’s back, she pushed him towards the clothes rail. “You need to get changed, Dame. We’re cuttin’ this fine as it is. Ryuu, honey, go find Kageyama for me, yeah.”

“I’ll go,” Futakuchi said.

“Is that guy blushing?” Noya whispered to Ryuu.

“Why... What’s he got to blush about?  He’s not ...” Comprehension dawned exactly the same time as Noya realised. “Yacchan!”

“Hey, hey! Where ya goin’?” Saeko demanded.

“He’s after-”

“He wants-”

“It’s Yacchan...”

“Property ... uh ... sanctity of Karasuno!”

“Oh, my, how tribal!” Oikawa laughed. “Have you really only just realised? Futa-chan’s been nursing an outrageous crush on Cinders for weeks now.”

“Ryuu, we gotta save her!”

“SIT DOWN!” Saeko yelled.  They sat, both of them knew better than to cross Neesan when she was mad. “Where d’you get off decidin’ who needs savin’?”

“But he’s ... he’s ... and she’s ... uh .... she’s –”

“Very eloquent,” Oikawa drawled. “So we’ve established that he’s a he and she’s a she.”

“Shut up, you,” Saeko snapped, slapping his arm. She turned to Ryuu, looking down at him as he fidgeted in his chair. “I get that you feel protective, guys, and that’s ... uh ... good, I guess. But it’s also annoying. Yachi’s a sweet girl, but she also knows her own mind.”

“But he’s a second year!”

“And from Datekou!”

“And you runnin’ out there shoutin’ the odds ain’t gonna change a thing,” she reasoned. Then she smirked. “Certainly not lookin’ like ya do at the moment.”

About to reply, Ryuu was pulled short by a figure coming through the dressing room door. Or two figures.

“Saeko-neesan?” Kageyama bowed.

“Ah, my Prince Charming,” she breezed. “Let’s do ya make up. Oikawa-kun, get into that dress of yours. I’m sure someone else will give ya a hand.”

Ryuu glared at Futakuchi, letting him know he knew things. He knew a lot of things, and one of those things was that you didn’t mess with innocent Karasuno girls. Despite what Neesan had said, he wasn’t going to let that pass and so got to his feet. A quick word, an implied threat. That would work.

But as he took a step closer, evading Saeko’s outstretched arm, he saw Futakuchi wasn’t smiling anymore. He wasn’t blushing either, but was pale and his hands were shaking. He looked like an idiot. A dork. Someone whose crush had been physically crushed.

He looked like Ryuu every time Shimizu-san ignored him.

“Didn’t you want to say something to Futa-chan?” Oikawa drawled.

Shrugging, Ryuu sat back down. “Good luck,” he muttered.

“And there was me hoping for a duel,” Oikawa said and sighed melodramatically. “Although I guess you don’t want to smudge your make-up.”

Saeko slapped him again. “Hey, drama queen, go and get changed!”

He scowled, his face looking far more intense with all the mockery gone, and Ryuu was reminded of the times he’d faced him on court, the power behind his serves, and how the first appearances of this boy as a pretty-boy waster were so very wrong.

“There’s plenty of time,” he said and flopped in a chair.

“No, there’s less than an hour before you’re due on stage,” Saeko reasoned. She picked up a sponge and dabbed foundation on Kageyama’s face. “And you’re gonna take longer than most of the others, so I need to get crackin’ on ya, Oikawa-kun.”

“We have time.”

“Not much. Yuu, honey, help Oikawa into his costume, will ya?”

“No, I’ll do it myself!” Oikawa snapped, and getting up he pulled his costume off the rail and stormed out of the room.

“Sheesh, anyone would think he was nervous,” Saeko murmured and smoothed the foundation over Kageyama’s skin, blending it into his neck. “What’s the big deal? Is it ‘cause his friend ain’t here?”

“Uh ...” Kageyama frowned, a puzzled look on his face and then he blinked. “He always gets ready late. At least he used to for matches.”

“Hmm, well, I can’t wait around much longer, so I hope he is actually gettin’ changed.” She slapped some blusher on his cheeks. “You’re done, cutey-pie. Now ... give me a smile.”

With a huge effort, Kageyama twitched the corners of his mouth upwards. Ryuu saw his sister rein in a flinch.

“Uh ... yeah, that’s real good. Just ... uh ... maybe the moody and magnificent look will work for ya, Kageyama-kun.”

***

Tooru wasn’t the only person in the toilets, although he was the only one getting changed.  Leaning over a sink, splashing water on his face, he found his stage husband, Sawamura, his face tinged green under the greasepaint.

“Not nervous are you, Sawa-chan?” he said, starting to mock, and then he stopped, because Sawamura really did look unwell. “You’re not like this on court.”

“Court’s different,” Sawamura mumbled, and looked up into the mirror. “Shit, my make-up’s streaked. How do girls cope? Why do they wear it? That’s the third time I’ve smudged those wrinkles. Hoshi-kun is going to kill me.”

“Doubt that,” Tooru replied. He leaned across grabbing a paper towel and started to dab Sawamura’s face, blotting the excess drops. “Don’t worry, I can fix this.” Pursing his lips, he rubbed at the smudged lines, blurring them back into wrinkles. “Why’s court different, then?”

“Huh?” Sawamura’s face cleared. “I’m Captain. I have to hold it together. Also ...” He grimaced a little, his face flushing. “Suga’s there. He keeps us all calm ... usually.”

“And because he’s not here, you’re falling apart,” Tooru stated and waited for the reaction

It came. Sawamura stepped up really close, the sheer glowering presence of the boy making light of their height difference, and said through gritted teeth. “I am NOT falling apart, but getting up on stage, when I can’t fricking act or sing is a big deal. OKAY!”

Not giving ground, Tooru smiled a little. “You’re acting’s quite good, actually, Sawamura. You can’t hold a tune to save your life, but Sugawara’s got you through that. And he will tonight, won’t he?”

“If he gets here.” He huffed and stared back at the mirror, adjusting the grey wig until it sat properly. “Thanks for sorting out the make-up,” he said, only a little grudgingly. “Do you want a hand with your costume?”

“No, I’m fine.” Tooru flicked at his hair, pushing it off his face. “I ... um ... I’m killing time.”

“Hmm?”

“Before matches, I used to drive everyone mad because I’d never get ready. I’d delay everything, basically. So I’d be late for the coach, late getting into the stadium – which was easy because there was always a girl or two wanting to chat. Iwa-chan used to have to drag me away, and then, well, in the changing room, it’s amazing how long it can take someone to pull a shirt over their head. Or tie up their shoes. I remember being on the receiving end of several slaps from Iwa-chan. Our kouhais never quite understood what was going on.” He shrugged. “Probably stopped them getting nervous, seeing me act up.”

“I can hit you,” Sawamura said, “if it helps having a sparring partner.”

“Mmm, it does. But it has to be the right one,” he murmured. And then he took a breath, pulled a face in the mirror, and started to laugh. “Okay, Sawamura, help me with this dress, will you? That sister of Monk-chan’s getting antsy, and quite frankly I’m more scared of her than any opponent on court.”

 

It was a matter of minutes when they left the toilets. Tooru, having been laced into his frock by Sawamura, strutted back to the hall, down the aisle of chairs, to several whoops from the cast and a shriek of laughter from Takeru.  He snarled at him, then sucking in his cheeks, he perfected a catwalk strut.

“ _I need a hero,”_ he crooned, and linked his hand into Sawamura’s.   
_“I’m holding on for a hero ‘til the end of the night._  
He’s got to be strong,   
And he’s got to be fast  
 And he’s got to be fresh from the fight.”  
 

For once Sawamura laughed, and as they made their way to the stage, he twirled Tooru into his arms and then out again.

“Nifty footwork, Sawa-chan!” Tooru said, fluttering his eyelashes and reflecting how a month before, Sawamura would have decked him. “Is there time to add a dance, Ennoshita-kun? We’re a match made in heaven.”

Ennoshita let out a whimper. “Uh ... save it for the encore, maybe.”

“That’s his diplomatic way of saying no,” Sawamura whispered. “Carry on with the song, it’s making everyone, including Ennoshita, relax.”

“ _I need a hero,”_ Oikawa continued, swivelling his hips. __  
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light,  
He's gotta be sure,  
And it's gotta be soon,  
And he's gotta be-”

“OI!  Shouldn’t you be ready instead of pissing around!”

“Iwa-chan!” Tooru’s eyes felt as if they were popping out of his skull, and it wasn’t until that moment, that _precise_ moment, seeing Iwaizumi walk into the hall, that he realised just how much he needed him for support. 

“Micchan!” Sawamura cried. “You’re out of hospital?”

“I’m on the run,” she said, grinning from ear to ear as Iwaizumi made his way towards them, carrying her in his arms.

“So this is what you and Suga-san were up to?” Ennoshita called out. He frowned a little. “You could have told me. I’ve been worried sick you wouldn’t get back in time.”

“Ah, we had a delay. Suga will explain,” Iwaizumi muttered. “Meanwhile, let’s find a chair for milady.”

As Ennoshita sprang forward to help, gesturing towards the chairs in the front row, Iwaizumi settled her on a chair, pulling up another one for her to rest her foot on. As soon as she settled, Natsu, Takeru and some of the other children swarmed around her, all of them chattering at once, accepting her cuddles and splashy kisses.

“I’ve missed you all too, guys,” she wept. “And I’m so sorry that I can’t be up there with you, but I’m going to be cheering you all in the audience, okay? So make sure you smile.”

_Tell that to Tobio,_ Tooru thought, but didn’t utter the opinion aloud, not when he had finally brooked some sort of common ground with Sawamura.

“So ... where is Suga, exactly?” Sawamura asked.

“Here,” came a voice form outside. “And ... um ... I’ve brought a couple of friends.” He looked nervous, chewing his lip as he stretched his arms out to the side. “SURPRISE!”

Tooru watched Sawamura’s mouth gape open. It wasn’t quite horror, or anger, or fear, or even surprise. It was an approximation of all four, with a glint of pleasure attempting to surface. Tooru surveyed the pair following Suga into the hall. There was a tall boy, all long limbs and attitude, with a mass of black hair resembling a rooster. The other was shorter, his hair dyed blond but with roots overdue a touch up.

“Kuroo?” Sawamura queried, his voice croaking. “What the hell are you doing here?”

His mouth tilted into a sideways grin. “We got some games comin’ up in Miyagi, Captain Crow. Preparation for Nationals. So we ... uh ... thought we might as well tie it in with a visit to see ya. Kenma got the news from Hinata.  The rest of the team are on their way.”

Letting go of Tooru’s arm, Sawamura jumped off the stage. For a moment, Tooru wondered if he was about to yell. He certainly didn’t appear calm as he approached Sugawara and the newcomers. But then, halfway up the aisle, a shorter figure bowled past him, shrieking and jumping towards the guests.

“KENMA!” shouted Hinata, crashing into him. “YOU CAME!”

“Hey, watch it, Shorty!” the taller guy exclaimed, catching Kenma  before he collapsed on the floor, leaving Sugawara to haul Hinata away “Good to see ya all again. Real team effort, from what Kenma’s been tellin’ us. And a good cause, too, gettin’ ya to Tokyo.”

The exchange halted Sawamura’s march towards them. Hands on his hips, his back to Tooru, he lifted his chin up and then began to laugh. “It’s great to see you, too.  Got to say, this thing’s scarier than any match I’ve ever played.”

“We’re rootin’ for ya, Captain. All of ya.”

***

Tobio stood in the corner of the dressing room and sucked on his juice carton. Because Ennoshita-san had impressed on him that Prince Charming covered in juice was not a look he wanted on the stage, he’d tucked a napkin under his chin, over the ruffles of the shirt.

It was almost time for the play to start. Oikawa, his senpai and nemesis, was in his chair, flapping his hands so the false nails would dry. Iwaizumi-san sat next to him, not saying much but answering Oikawa’s questions, and not showing the slightest impatience.

Peering out of the stage, he saw Yachi waiting in the wings with Hinata. Her shoulders were shaking up and down, but there was a smile on her face, an excited type of smile, equalled by Hinata, and Yamaguchi, who was standing with her despite the fact he wouldn’t be on stage until scene four with Tobio.

He slurped the rest of the juice, crumpled the carton in his hand, and threw it towards the bin.

It missed.

He stared at the box, and the straw and the tiny drops of juice now pooling on the floor.

“House Lights out!” He heard Ennoshita cry to Tsukishima. “Suga-san, are you ready?”

“Yep.”

As the chorus took their places, Natsu and Takeru holding hands at the front, Tobio’s heart began to flutter.

And then he felt his body switch to overdrive. A flush starting from his feet rippled through him, his pulse raced, a lump stuck in his throat. And this was nothing, like NOTHING, he’d ever experienced in his life. His palms were sweating, his stomach lurched, and he had the strongest desire to be sick absolutely everywhere.

Out in the wings, waiting for his first entrance, Hinata was bobbing up and down, on each foot, no sign of nerves. _He looks excited, happy, not nervous._

“Kageyama?” 

_Where’s the toilet?_

“Kageyama!”

Who was calling him? He didn’t have time for this.

“Kageyama-kun, are you okay?”

His mouth dried.

A hand wrenched him around. He stared into the face of his other senpai. Stared into the eyes of the guy who’d supported him through this. The guy he’d made a promise to, but was now letting down.

The music started.

The curtain rose.

The chorus started to sing.

“I can’t go on, Iwaizumi-san,” Tobio croaked. “I can’t do this.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!
> 
> In case you didn't know, I ship Keishin and Saeko, and I decided they were together in this story even if this doesn't follow the same canon as my other fics. When I started this story, the brief was basically no shipping, but there are a few hints here and there about occasional pairings. It's still General because the focus is the story and not the pairings.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the pantomime reaches a SHOCKING conclusion (I might have just lied about that).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song in this chapter is 'She's the One' by Robbie Williams. 
> 
> Thousand billion apologies for the failure to update. I got tangled up in knots with the plot, then people had birthdays and I was struggling to find time to get this done. I am a horrible person and you may pelt me with rotten tomatoes.
> 
> The latter part of this story was always going to be in the fic, but I have 'ramped up the Futakuchi' because I realised I had a star in the making when I started writing the story. You can blame Isy, who fuels my Datekou flames.

Asahi stood in the wings waiting for Noya and Tanaka to appear. Having taken over Kageyama’s role of stage manager, his current task was to hand out the props and receive them. On the other side of the stage, Narita had a similar table set up, alongside Ennoshita, who had decided against sitting out front. Everything had been timetabled, every prop catalogued, all Asahi had to do, was ensure the actor took the right thing on the stage.  He straightened the handbags again, taking a breath to steady himself, which he knew was stupid because he wasn’t even going on the stage, but he didn’t want to be responsible for anyone missing their cue. Peering through the curtains, he allowed himself a momentary lapse in concentration to smile at Yachi and Hinata, currently wowing the audience as they sang with the chorus, their smiles wide and bright.

As the chorus trooped off past Narita, Asahi glanced over his shoulder heartened to see Tanaka, Noya, Daichi and Oikawa preparing to make their first entrance. And then he looked past them, his focus shifting to something else , or rather someone else. For there, propped against the wall, shoulders hunched and arms across his chest stood Kageyama. Standing over him, his palm flat against the bricks was Iwaizumi. And although his head was turned and Asahi couldn’t see his expression, he could tell by his stance the stiff shoulders and head shaking, that something was very badly wrong.

“Daichi,” he whispered. “Is Kageyama-kun all right?”

“Huh? Uh ... yeah, sure.” Daichi nodded vaguely. “Give me hand with all the luggage, will you?”

Frowning a little, Asahi reached across, loading Daichi with the first of the cases, then hanging the others off his shoulders. That finished, he swivelled round, gave Noya and Tanaka their handbags, before handing over a hatbox tied with a ribbon to Oikawa.

He should have been focusing on his job, but once they’d walked onto the stage, he couldn’t help but look back at Kageyama.

“Excuse me,” he whispered, pulling on Futakuchi’s sleeve.

“What?” Futakuchi turned, and blinked, looking surprised that Asahi had spoken to him.

“Could you take Cinderella’s broom from her when she comes off?” Asahi asked, and pointed to a space on the props table. “It needs to be put here.”

To his surprise, Futakuchi didn’t blank him, but stuttered a ‘yes’, so Asahi stepped quickly away, hoping everything would be all right. He didn’t have time to ponder Futakuchi’s helpfulness, not even if it seemed wildly out of character, Asahi’s mind was only on his kouhai.

As someone who suffered so badly from nerves (it was the reason he’d demurred from appearing on stage) Asahi recognised the very real panic currently paralysing Kageyama. That Iwaizumi appeared to have contained it was creditable, but as he approached, and he heard their conversation, he knew he wasn’t mistaken. Kageyama needed help, but Iwaizumi had no idea what to do.

“Don’t be a dumbass,” he was hissing. “You _have_ to go on, Kageyama! They can’t do the show without you. Ennoshita has put in a lot of work. Everyone has worked their asses off for this show, and you have to get your butt into gear and on that stage!”

“I... can’t,” Kageyama replied, quiet but wooden. “There are people watching.”

“It’s a fucking play, of course there are. You knew that!”

“Iwaizumi-san...” Asahi ventured, tapping him on the shoulder.

“What,” he snapped irritably, then did a double-take. “Sorry, Azumane, I didn’t realise it was you. Look ... uh ... we might have a situation here. I’m trying to let anyone else know, but this dumba... uh ... Kageyama-kun has stage fright.” He stopped, then twisted back to Kageyama, and now he was closer, Asahi could see his other hand, furled into a fist. “You have played volleyball in a final in front of a packed stadium. You don’t get nervous, Kageyama. You never have!”

“Not true.” Kageyama chewed his lip. “’Gainst Oikawa-san and you. Always nervous.”

“Really?” Iwaizumi shot a glance at Asahi, then returned to the fray. “Well, you hid it well and played out of your fucking skin, so get on that stage and ... pretend it’s a fucking game and you’re about to pull off a dump shot against Seijou!”

“Can’t,” he rasped and pulled off his crown. “Can’t go on, Iwaizumi-san. Sorry.”

Asahi edged nearer. He wasn’t close to Kageyama, never had been, both their demeanours prevented a relationship more than Setter and Ace. Kageyama was distant, Asahi nervy, neither at ease with the other except on court. But he’d seen terror like this, he’d felt this fear, and he had to do something. Not just because Ennoshita and Karasuno were counting on it, but because he knew if Kageyama didn’t face this, then the fear would follow him, affecting every aspect of his life.

He took a breath. “Kageyama-kun, you’ve seen me before a match. I’m a wreck, yes?”

“Asahi-san. This is different.”

“No, it’s not,” he whispered and tried a smile. “It’s just a different arena. Concentrate on something else. Like me concentrating on not being sick before a match stops me feeling quite as nervous.”

“Huh, how does that work?” Iwaizumi interrupted, his eyes flicking to the wings. “We don’t have time for this. Kageyama, you need to get your ass in gear. They’re on scene two. You have about ten minutes.”

_‘It’s raining men!  Hallleluuuuuuuujaaaaaaa.  
It’s raining me. AaaaaaaMEN!’_

Hearing Oikawa’s voice far above Noya and Tanaka, he raised his eyebrows. “Okay, you probably have fifteen ‘cause he’s milking it.”

“I cannot go on,” Kageyama repeated woodenly. He stared straight ahead. “Asahi-san, Iwaizumi-san. I apologise but I can’t do this. It isn’t volleyball. There are people there. I ... I won’t go on.”

A rush of footsteps, a laugh quickly stifled and then a smile as bright as a sunbeam flashed towards them. “Kageyama, it’s amazing, huh?” Hinata declared, his face flushed and his hair sticking out every way after he’d been pushed around between Oikawa, Tanaka and Noya, finally landing headlong into Daichi. “Bet you can’t wait to ...” His eyes flickered to Asahi. “What’s wrong with Kageyama?”

“He’s feeling nervous, Hinata-kun.”

Hinata screwed up his face, wrinkling his nose. “Really? But you’re never nervous. Hey, maybe you need the toilet. Always helps me if I have a pee. You’ve just got enough time.”

“Uh... yes.” Kageyama made to move, a sudden movement that Asahi almost missed, but Iwaizumi didn’t, and grabbed his arm.

“There’s no time. Oikawa’s coming off. Yachi’s ready and you need to get your ass out on that stage with Yamaguchi.” He glowered at him, eyeball to eyeball and Kageyama glowered back, his face black and menacing

 Twisting around, Asahi searched for Daichi, one of only two people he knew Kageyama would listen to, but Daichi was the other side of the stage, and the other person was currently playing the guitar while Yachi sang.

 “You don’t understand.”

“It’s fun!” Hinata insisted, and grabbed his hand. “There’s a lot of people out there, but they’re all our friends. I can see Kenma and Kuroo-san. Lev and Inuoka are watching, and both of them are laughing. They love it, Kageyama. They love us. It’s incredible!”

“They’re laughing?”

“Yeah, in the right bits!” Hinata replied. “It’s not like volleyball. _Everyone’s_ on our side. Oh, man, the Datekou guys are lapping it up.”

“Ah... maybe ...” Kageyama let his breath whistle through his lips, and eased off the wall, his shoulders a little more relaxed.

_Bless you, Hinata-kun._

Hinata gripped his hand tighter. “Even Shallot-head’s smiling. Gah, it’s great. I didn’t expect-”

“Kindaichi?”

“Uh-huh, he’s there, and all the Seijou team. It’s kinda funny watching Tanaka-san snarl at Mad-Dog-”

“Kindaichi...” Kageyama mumbled. “And Kunimi. Waiting.”

His face blanched. He slumped back against the wall. And Asahi knew that nothing would get Kageyama on that stage, not even Karasuno’s own brand of sunshine.

“What’s going on? Asahi-san, why is Futakuchi at the props table? And Kageyama, you need to be waiting in the wings!”

Asahi closed his eyes, sighing inwardly because now he had to turn and explain to the one person who would take this the hardest. “Kageyama,” he whispered. “Ennoshita’s here. You can’t let him down.”

It was Iwaizumi who steeled himself to face their director. “Uh... Ennoshita-kun, we might have a bit of a problem. Kageyama is ... uh ...”

And then Oikawa bustled in, flouncing his skirt as he brushed past Aone and Futakuchi. “Fu-fu, what is the problem now?”

“Hell, that’s all we need,” Iwaizumi cursed. “Oikawa, leave us alone.”

“Very interesting. Just what has happened now? Don’t tell me you’re still trying to make Tobio-chan smile? It’s a lost cause. Just change the billing in the programme to Charmless-”

“Shut up!” Iwaizumi hissed, and stretching out, he pushed Oikawa in the chest, fending him off while he took on Ennoshita. “Kageyama’s scared,” he muttered. “He won’t go on.”

“What!”

“It’s nerves,” Asahi soothed. “I’m sure once he gets up there, then he’ll be absolutely fine. It’s just like that moment before you step on court.”

“NO!” Kageyama’s voice, although he didn’t shout, cut through them all, and now he threw the crown across the room, and his hands were in his hair, tugging at its roots. “You don’t understand. This is not a match. I don’t know what I’m doing. Someone else. Get someone else.”

“There’s no time!  You have minutes, Kageyama,” Ennoshita pleaded. “You have to go on. There’s no pantomime without Prince Charming. Come on.”  He grabbed his face, cupping it between his hands. “Get it together. Imagine it’s Ushiwaka, or Seijou and you’re taking them down.”

Kageyama’s breathing increased. Asahi could hear the pants and saw beads of sweat on his brow. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone move, someone bending down to retrieve the crown, and then a voice, calm and controlled sounded from across the room.

“Kageyama.”

“For fucks sake, Oikawa, don’t you start,” Iwaizumi snarled. He went to restrain him, but Asahi placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Kageyama-kun,” Oikawa repeated and stepped forwards. He pushed Iwaizumi’s arm away, and stood beside Ennoshita. Then he lifted his hands and placed the crown on Kageyama’s head. “Your team need you and ...” He smiled, but his eyes were serious. “I’ll be counting on you today.”

Two intakes of breath, one came from Kageyama and the other from Iwaizumi as both stared at the Seijou Setter – garish in his make up and costume, but still the one in command.

“Can I do this?” Kageyama whispered.

“Yes,” Oikawa replied simply. “We’re _all_ there behind you.”

Kageyama shuddered, but it wasn’t horror, unless it was the horror at the thought he’d so nearly failed again.  With a nod to Oikawa and a muttered apology to Ennoshita and to Iwaizumi, he exhaled and then pushed his way past them and to the wings.

“Well done,” Iwaizumi said to Oikawa.

“Can’t have the show closing before I have my big scene,” Oikawa said lightly and pulled his mouth into his customary smirk. “You should probably get back to the props table, Azumane-san.  Futa-chan’s so distracted by the leading lady, he handed me the pumpkin instead taking my fan.”

***

Although his nerves didn’t melt away, Tobio managed to get through his first scene without drying.  It helped that the audience, whilst not laughing, were respectful as he strode on. Unlike Hinata, Yachi and even Yamaguchi, there were none of his classmates in the audience, for the simple reason he’d not mentioned it to anyone. Despite that, as he spotted some familiar faces (Nekoma, like Seijou, were out in force and hogging two rows) he felt a little more at ease, but there was none of the adrenaline he felt before a match.

Kindaichi was there. And Kunimi. Just as Hinata had said. And he knew. He knew without looking, that they were waiting for him to fail. They wanted him to screw up. To be humiliated.

And then Yamaguchi left the stage, and Tobio was up there alone, on the stage with no one he could call any type of friend. He felt his throat dry. Yachi – no, Cinderella- would be on soon, surrounded by the children, and he needed to be behind the tree to watch her.

He had to sing.

_I can’t do this._

_‘I’m counting on you.’_

Yachi ran on, hand in hand with both Natsu and Takeru, looking every inch the heroine, wide-eyed and laughing and Tobio marvelled at how relaxed she could be when he was a churning mass of nerves inside.

He swallowed, then, hearing the first chords of the song, he looked across to the musicians and found Suga’s eyes, and his smile urging him on.

His mouth dried, but as the music drifted towards him, and he saw the audience shift a little in their seats, Kageyama shifted around the tree, still watching Yachi and he started to sing.

_‘I was her she was me_  
_We were one we were free’_

Okay, so that was a little croaky, but no one was actively throwing things. Maybe he could do this.  He swallowed.

_‘And if there's somebody calling me on_  
_She's the one_  
_If there's somebody calling me on_  
_She's the one.’_

Yachi moved to the front of the stage, kneeling down so Natsu could place a flower crown on her head, and apparently unseen Tobio moved upstage.

_‘We were young we were wrong_  
_We were fine all along_  
_If there's somebody calling me on_  
_She's the one’_

But just as he – Prince Charming – moved forwards to introduce himself, a shout from offstage – Oikawa’s Dame’s loud cackle – caused Cinderella to take flight and flee, leaving the flower crown on the floor and Tobio alone again.

_‘When you get to where you wanna go_  
_And you know the things you wanna know’_  
  


He turned to the audience, and even though he knew he should look away, he couldn’t stop his focus being drawn to the two boys sitting on the end of the Seijou row.

_‘You're smiling’_

They weren’t laughing. Both seemed dumbstruck – that was the only word he could think. Looking to the stage right, picking up the flower crown, Tobio faced down his nemeses.

_‘When you said what you wanna say_  
_And you know the way you wanna play_  
_You'll be so high you'll be flying.’_

As he hit the top note, letting it ripple through the hall, he heard a collective ‘oooh’ then a hush. 

_‘If there's somebody calling me on_  
_She's the one.’_  
  


The cheering reverberated through the audience, led by Suga who’d got to his feet, Michimiya who struggled to hers supported by Kuroo, and finally Kindaichi and Kunimi broke into grins, nudging each other.

***

“You look lovely.”

“You look _lovely_.”

No, that made it sound like he was surprised.

“ _You_ look lovely.”

Okay, more personal, but was that a bit too much?  Kenji flipped his hair off his forehead, puffed out his cheeks, and tried another emphasis.

“You _look_ lovely.”

“That’s just stupid. Who the hell says that?” he snarled.

“Excuse me.”

Oh no ... that voice. He turned swiftly, hoping to whatever deity was watching that he hadn’t gone a horrible cherry red, and tried to fix his most casual and relaxed smile on his face.

“Hey there, Yachi-kun, uh ... sorry, can I help you with something?”

“Um...” She stared up at him, eyes blinking rapidly, darting from side-to-side. “I ... um ... need to get to the changing room. The girls’ one. I ... um ... have to ... um ... get changed. Futakuchi-san, could you please stand aside?”

“Ballgown, right?” he asked, flustered, metaphorically kicking himself for stating the obvious.

“Yes.”

“It’s ... uh ... great dress. Real transformation.”

“Um... is it?”

“Uh ... yeah, like before you’re wearing the rags and ... uh ... not that you don’t look... uh ... good in the rags... but the gallbown –“

“What?”

“Ballgown!” he corrected.

“Ah... yes.” She bit her upper lip. “Um... Futakuchi-san, I really need to get past, or Saeko-neesan won’t have time to do my hair, and then it might fall down when I’m dancing or flop over my eyes so I can’t see where I’m going. I might tread on Kageyama’s toes and then he won’t smile at all, and what if I do that and he really injures himself and can’t play in Tokyo. WHAT IF I’M RESPONSIBLE?”

He jumped, surprised at her sudden panic. “Uh ... sorry,” he said and hopped to the side. She hurried past, murmuring thanks and sorrys with equal measure. It was when she put her hand on the door handle, that he found his tongue. “You’re knocking them dead out there, Yachi-kun.”

“Huh?”

“Star of the show,” he continued, but as she looked back at him, her eyes even wider, he began to fluster again, and his tongue seemed to swell fifteen times its size.

Yachi looked as if she was about to reply, certainly she opened her mouth, but just then the changing room door was wrenched open and she toppled into Saeko’s arms.

“There you are, Yacchan. Now come inside and let me make you beautiful. Or more beautiful than you are already, wouldn’t you say?” she demanded, her eyes meeting Kenji’s as she smirked.

“Yes,” he said to the empty air. “Yes.”

“Very smooth,” whispered someone coming up behind him.

He groaned, recognising her voice and knowing she wouldn’t be sympathetic. But then no one in this place was going to help him. “Hoshi-chan. Are you stalking me?”

“Nope ... our director’s getting antsy,” she said waspishly. “And although the second half isn’t due to start for ten minutes, he wants to make sure we’re in place.”

“Fine,” he muttered, and heaving himself off the wall, he trudged towards the wings.

“You’ve got no chance, you do know that, don’t you?” his cousin remarked. “You’re an outsider, and they’re not going to let you get close to one of their own.”

“Hasn’t stopped Iwaizumi and Oikawa,” he grumbled. “They’re always hanging around your old captain and Shimizu-san and no one calls them out. Bet that’s a bit galling, yeah?”

Her eyes narrowed a little at that because however much she respected Michimiya, he knew she was annoyed to have been sidelined and overlooked by Oikawa.

“That’s different,” she said at last. “Oikawa-san has charm. Iwaizumi-san has ... uh ... something. You, Kenji-chan, are just annoying.”

“Thank you so much!” he said with sarcasm. “Great help.”

“You did ask!” she muttered, then sighing she linked her arm in his.  “I’m sorry, but the guys here are never going to like you, Kenj. You’re a rival captain with a smart mouth. And ... haters gonna hate, aren’t they?”

“S’pose so,” he replied. “Ahh, this time tomorrow, it’ll all be over and I can get back to building the Iron Wall.”

“That’s the spirit, Captain!”

But when Kenji got on stage, lining up next to Aone, waiting for the curtain to go up, he stopped thinking volleyball because there in the wings, quivering like cherry blossom, was Yachi Hitoka dressed up for the ball.

It was a pale blue dress, with white lace trim and an ivory sash tied in a bow at the back. It was long, too, and he understood now why she was nervous about tripping. Monk-kun’s sister had done something to her hair, piling it up on her head but with little bits –tendrils he supposed they were called – curling around her face. It was a sophisticated style, but for all that, she looked barely sixteen.

And she was still trembling. Shaking as she glanced up at Kageyama, whose eyes were fixed firmly (and grimly) ahead.

‘He won’t smile at all,’ she’d said.

Then maybe it’s up to us to make him laugh. He nudged Takanobu.

“Hey, you know what?”

“Huh?”

“Our guys are out there in the fourth row.”

“So?”

“So ... maybe we should put on a show worthy of the Iron Wall.”

Takanobu didn’t reply, didn’t nod or shake his head, but the knuckles of his hand turned white as he gripped his cardboard spear.

 

As Shouyou bounded onto the stage, he wasn’t aware of anything different. It was half way through the pantomime and he was having a glorious time. Yachi and he had received a great round of applause when they’d first come on, he’d not forgotten any of his words, and Kenma had even put his game away to watch him.

And this scene, his first of the half, was a simple one. No song, not many lines, just a little bit of goofing around with the Datekou guards before Cinderella met Prince Charming.

They would block him, he would jump, Futakuchi would cross his spear at the same time as Aone, and they’d get caught. In that time, Hinata would scoot through their legs, catching sight of Cinderella before they dragged him away.

“Hey, so here’s the thing,” Shouyou said to the guards. “I’m the Grand Duke de Bon-Bon’s youngest son, and I’ve been invited to the ball, but ...” He gave a very showy wink to the audience. “I’ve lost my invitation.”

Futakuchi pulled out a list and began to study it.

“Duke de Bon-Bon. No, he’s not on here-”

“He must be,” Shouyou said stoutly and shoved his chest out. “I’m his son. I _demand_ to be let in!”

At that, Futakuchi was supposed to consult with Aone, drop the list, allowing Buttons to quickly add his name.

But he didn’t.

“Nah, not here,” he said and grinned. “We got a Prince Moniwa and a Count Kamasaki. But ... uh ...”A yell came from the audience and he nudged his fellow guard, who for a second looked bemused. “This guy’s too short to be their kid.”

“Uh... Look over there!” Shouyou improvised, and tried to grab the list.

“Over where? And hey, give me that back!”

Shouyou gulped. “Y-you gotta let me in,” he beseeched, then hissed. “What’s going on?”

Hands on hips, Futakuchi leered over him. “Well, we would let you in, but I don’t think you’re invited, and what do we do to gatecrashers who try to get past us, Aone-kun?”

“WE BLOCK THEM!” roared Aone, scowling ferociously.

Staring at him, then to the wings, hoping Ennoshita-san could help, or someone- anyone - tell him what was going on, Shouyou’s heart began to thump.  Had he missed a rehearsal?  Was he forgetting something new that had been added? 

“And why’s that?” Futakuchi asked, smirking.

“Because ...” Aone began, and took a step forward. “We are the IRON WALL!”

“YEAH, you tell ‘em!” shouted someone in the audience, someone Shouyou was pretty sure was in the fourth row, and seemed to be rolling up his sleeves.

“B-but ... I ...”

“You what?” Futakuchi snarled. “You think you can get past us just cause ... what, you’re the son of someone you’ve just made up. We might be a wall, but we’re not thick.”

“What?” Shouyou whispered. “Please, what are you doing?”

“Play along! Just injecting some humour,” muttered Futakuchi out of the side of his mouth. “We’re the formidable Guards of Datekou and we will not let you pass!”

His mouth now oval shaped, his eyes round, Shouyou gaped at them, then quickly shook his head. He stepped away, ruffled his hair, and glanced again to the side. Noya and Tanaka watched, gnawing on their knuckles, the Grand King was fussing at his wig, and Daichi-san looked as if he were about to storm onto the stage, only Ennoshita’s arm stopping him.  To the other side, Yachi was fretting at her sleeve, biting the side of her lip, her eyes flicking from Shouyou to the boy by her side.

Kageyama.  Kageyama who was watching with his head to the side, puzzled it seemed, but not worried or stiff like he had been, but interested. It was like he was watching another Setter’s toss, trying to work out how he could use it.

 “You reckon?” Shouyou adlibbed. “You think I can’t get past you?”

“Like to see you try?” teased Futakuchi, and leering over him, he poked Shouyou in the chest. “Short-arse!”

“Hey...”

“Chibi-chan!” Aone growled.

A squeak from the wings. Yachi gasped.

“You’re ...” Aone declared, stretching out his hand, “too...” he grabbed Shouyou by the scruff of his collar, “short.”

Shouyou felt rather than saw himself being lifted from the floor. He stared into Aone’s eyes, then back to Futakuchi, then hoping to all the gods this wasn’t going to end with concussion, he balled his hands into fists.

“Put ‘em up, put ‘em up, big guy!” he yelped. “The Duke de Bon-Bon’s son’ll fight you both!”

“Ahhh, we have a comedian,” Futakuchi cried, and strode to the front of the stage. “Someone who thinks he can take on our impregnable fortress!”

“You tell him, kouhai!”shouted a vociferous audience member.

“What do we do with him?” Aone demanded, hoisting Shouyou over his shoulder.

Feeling his hand loosen on his collar, and a hearing a murmur from Aone of ‘now’, Shouyou took him at his word and sprang off him.

They reacted quick, as quick as he’d expect from the Iron Wall, but Shouyou was quicker, dodging the pair of them, as had been originally planned. And then, just as both went to grab him, he scooted between the pair of them, letting their momentum finish what they’d started. His guards, the impregnable wall, clashed heads, sprang back and collapsed on the floor, waving their legs in the air before sprawling on their backs.

He took his chance, ran to the window, shouted his lines over how beautiful Cinderella looked and what a handsome guy she was dancing with, then looking across to the wings before returning to the audience, he gave his widest grin.

“Hey!” he yelled, jabbing his thumb in his chest. “I may be small, but I can JUMP!”

As the guards woke and dragged him half way across the stage, taking a foot each, Shouyou winked up at Kageyama.

“I’M GONNA KNOCK THEM DOWN AND GO TO NATION- UH THE BALL!”   he shrieked from offstage.

“Dumbass!” Kageyama mouthed, but his shoulders were shaking.

And taking Yachi’s hand, swirling her onto the stage ...  he not only smiled, but broke out a belly laugh.

“Oh my god it’s a miracle!” Ennoshita gasped and clutched at Shouyou. “How did you think of that, Hinata-kun?”

“Not me,” he said and shrugged. “Those Datekou guys did it all.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one more chapter and I will get this finished. Again, I'm sorry for the delay. Thank you so much for sticking with the story, I don't deserve you!


	8. Curtain Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the pantomime draws to a close, and everyone learns to take their final bows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song in this is one I'm singing in pantomime in two weeks time :D 
> 
> Thank you so much if you've stuck with this fic. I wrote the first four chapters pretty quickly and got very carried away with the songs and the characters so the story spiralled and then I either got distracted or disheartened and stopped for a while. I was always going to finish the story, partly because I loved the story so much, but also because of my lovely readers, and decided to try and finish in time for panto season!

_‘Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof.’_

Chikara stood in the wings listening as the final refrains of the encore played out. He knew there was a smile on his face; he’d made sure of that. His cast were beaming. His cast were singing. His cast were happy. Some, he knew, were relieved it was over. Others were delighting in the cheers from the audience. Yachi, he noticed, had never looked happier, and startlingly pretty taking both Kageyama and Hinata’s hands as they led her forward for a bow.

_‘Clap along if you feel that happiness is the truth.’_

_Because we’re happy..._

And then Daichi raised his hands, striding to the front to quell the crowd.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he began, his voice rasping. He stopped to clear his throat and began again to a catcall from one part of the hall. “Ladies, Gentlemen and Kuroo, thank you all for coming. I hope you enjoyed Cinderella, and that we managed to keep you entertained.”

“Ya did that, Sawamura!” Kuroo yelled from his seat. “Hope you wear those costumes in Tokyo.”

“It’s an idea,” Daichi replied wryly.  He paused. “I need to thank a few people. First of all, Sugawara Koushi on guitar and Kinoshita Hisashi on piano. I’m not sure how I’d have got through the songs without them. Singing is really not my thing.”

“Is that what you call it?” Chikara heard Oikawa hoot.  He waited for Daichi to glower, but he grinned instead.

“Then there’s Tsukishima Kei on sound and lights. Azumane Asahi and Narita Kazuhito backstage. Narita-kun also co-wrote the play, and Asahi made a lot of the props.” He coughed again. “Thanks also to Tanaka Saeko for make-up. She did an incredible job making us look presentable.”

“That’s okay, sweetie. The raw material was already good in your case,” Saeko yelled from the front row, laughing with Ukai when Daichi became flustered.

“Uh ... where was I?” he stumbled, and glanced sideways. “Oh, yes, also I need to thank our sensei, Takeda-san and Coach Ukai, for all their support and help with the set. And ... uh ...” He swallowed, and for the first time since he’d started his speech, Daichi looked almost nervous. He held out his hands, gesturing to Oikawa on one side, and the two guards on the other. “We’ve put on this pantomime to pay for the trip to Tokyo. It’s to enable us to compete at Nationals. To represent Karasuno and bring back the glory days. But having Oikawa Tooru from Aobajousai High, Futakuchi Kenji and Aone Takanobu from Date Tech in this production, has meant we can _truly_ represent Miyagi. We ... uh ... we want to compete not just for us, but also the Prefecture.”

“Sawa-chan,” Oikawa called, coquettishly fluttering his eyelashes. “You sound almost tearful. Perhaps this doesn’t have to be the end of our relationship.”

“I want a divorce,” he shouted back, to the delight of the crowd as Oikawa pretended to swoon. He laughed then straightened his face. “I also have to thank the kids from Little Tykes, and Natsu-chan for keeping us all in line.”  She stepped forward when beckoned and beamed at the audience. “Iwaizumi Hajime for-”

“What?” yelped Iwaizumi, standing next to Chikara in the wings.

“Iwaizumi Hajime,” Daichi repeated firmly, “also from Aobajousai for supporting us and –”

“Keeping _me_ in line,” Oikawa said dryly. He blew a kiss to Iwaizumi from centre stage. “Could not have got through this without Seijou’s Ace.”

“Finally.” Daichi inhaled deeply. “None of this could have been possible without one person. Yes, we did this together, because that’s how the best volleyball teams play, but there always has to be that one person who goes the extra mile. The person who steps up to the plate and whips it all into shape. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you our Director, Ennoshita Chikara!”

“That’s you,” Iwaizumi muttered, and placing his hand on Chikara’s back, he shoved him forwards.

Chikara’s hands were trembling. He wiped his clammy palms down his trousers as he headed out onto the stage. There was something sticking in his throat, something stopping him from speaking.  He swallowed, which didn’t do much, but at least he could squeak out a thank you.

“Uh...” His voice cracked.

“He’s speechless. That’s a first,” Futakuchi cried, and nudged Aone.

Snorting, Chikara twisted around to face his palace guard. “The amount of shouting I had to do to get you to behave, are you surprised I’ve lost my voice?” He shook his head, then with a snort jerked his thumb back towards Futakuchi. “Moniwa-san, how did you cope?”

“He had me!” Kamasaki roared. Then he cheered. “Well done, kouhai!”

Chikara beamed at them all, his eyes drifted along the rows of chairs in front of him, finally resting on one person, who despite her smile had wistful eyes.  He coughed. “I want to say thank you,” he began, “to everyone who has made this possible. Daichi-san has covered most of it, but ... uh ... as well as thanking the amazing cast, I want to say firstly how sad I was when we lost our original Fairy Godmother.”

Michimiya gasped, her hands fluttered to her face as she buried her crimson cheeks in them.

“Michimiya-san was instrumental in keeping our morale going in the first few weeks,” he continued, smiling at her. “And it was devastating to us, especially the children, when she broke her ankle. Which ... uh ... brings me to my second thank you, and that is to Shimizu Kiyoko for switching roles. And finally a huge thank you to Kageyama Tobio for stepping into the part of Prince Charming.  Kageyama-kun didn’t want to act, but he showed he could, and it’s appreciated, okay?”

Blushing, Kageyama kept his head down, a slight nod the only sign he acknowledged the applause.

“But honestly, the biggest thanks are for you, the audience, for coming along and getting into the spirit of things.” He grinned at them all, and then to his cast. “That’s it, guys.  You’ve been amazing, so take one last bow and then, after we strike the set, we’ve got a wrap party to get to!”

“Anyone that can give a hand means we can start the party earlier,” Daichi called out. “Yeah, Nekoma, I’m looking at you.”

Chikara kept smiling, even as he left the stage.

It was over.

It was done.

The spotlights would shift leaving him in the shadows.

***

In the dressing room Tobio listened to the chatter around him, heard Hinata and Yamaguchi swapping their favourite moments and stepped away, unable to think of anything to contribute. It had passed in a blur. He could remember not wanting to go on, then steeling himself to step on the stage. He remembered the faces of the audience and the panic when he knew he had to sing. His throat had closed – he could still feel its constriction -  but then, miraculously the words had come, his voice had held and he’d made it through that scene.

A loud laugh from the corner nearest the door dragged him away from circumspection. The Datekou guard, their Captain, was joking around with the other one, a chuckle on his lips.

_So they’d enjoyed it, too._

He frowned as he considered the pantomime. There’d been a challenge, which he’d accepted, and then another, which he’d almost failed, but ... his eyes flicked across the room ... he’d managed to get over whatever block had caused him to freeze... but it hadn’t been without help.  With sudden determination, he turned on his heel and strode to the corner, shoulders straight, chin set, and faced his old senpais.

 “Iwaizumi-san,” he began, starting with the easiest option.

“Kageyama-kun,” Iwaizumi answered, sounding formal. Then he softened. “Well done. You were good up there.”

He refused to blush or fumble over the compliment. “I ... I owe you for the help you gave me.”

 Iwaizumi shrugged. “My ... uh ... well, not really pleasure. You gave me a heart attack tonight, Kageyama-kun, but ... uh ... I’m glad I could help.” Giving him a slight wink, he stepped back, ostensibly to hang up the rest of Oikawa’s costume, leaving Tobio face to face with Oikawa.

“Tobio-chan,” Oikawa drawled. “You’re still here?”

“Play nice!” Iwaizumi hissed.

“I intend to,” Oikawa replied as he ran his fingers through his hair, setting it back into the perfect waves that the dame’s wig had flattened. “It’s our kouhai who’s approached us, Iwa-chan. I wonder what he wants to say.”

“Th-thank you,” Tobio stammered and inhaled sharply. “For what you said... In the wings. Your words  helped.”

“They were meant to,” Oikawa replied, sounding arch, but then Iwaizumi nudged him and he smiled a little. “You weren’t bad out there, Tobio. Not as _charmless_ as I expected. Well done.”

“You, too,” he muttered in reply, then took a step back, because now his was duty done, he could leave.

“This settles nothing, you know,” Oikawa called after him.

“Huh?”

“You and me, Tobio-chan, we’re still rivals.” He paused as he finished buttoning up his shirt. “We won’t play against each other for a few years, but nothing will change between us.”

He could feel his lips twitch even as he scowled. Normality in place, he inclined his head. “I don’t expect it to, Oikawa-san.”

“And next time, I will crush you, kouhai,” he promised, hissing the words between his teeth.

“Thank God for that,” Tobio heard Iwaizumi say as he left the room.

“Thank God for what, Iwa-chan?”

“If you’d had a reconciliation, I’d know I was dreaming  and this fucking thing wasn’t over!”  Iwaizumi said. But although the words were harsh, his tone wasn’t, a low, rowling laugh underpinning as he leant across and cuffed Oikawa on the head.

***

The party was in full swing a little over an hour later. With the help of Nekoma, Aobajousai and Datekou, the set had been cleared, props and costumes packed away, and the chairs in the hall stacked to the side.

In the corner, Kinoshita had set up the auditorium speakers. The music wasn’t loud, not while the Vice Principal was on the premises, but as soon as he’d left, Kinoshita had the okay from Takeda, to blast it through the school – he’d told Daichi.

“So, yes, Kuroo, there will be proper music,” Daichi was assuring the Nekoma captain, “but we have to behave at least for a while. Our Vice Principal isn’t exactly a fan of the Volleyball club.”

“Scared the music will blow his wig off, too,” Suga chimed and laughed when Daichi flinched. “You must get Daichi to tell you the full story, Kuroo-kun. It’s ... interesting.”

“He’s gone very pale, Suga-kun,” Yaku said. He nudged Suga on the arm. “I was surprised you weren’t on stage.”

“No, Sug managed to dodge that particular bullet,” Daichi growled. “Asahi did, too.”

“Suga-san had to put up with extra rehearsals and my Middle Blocker, though,” Michimiya put in. She gazed up at them from her chair. “And getting you to hold a single note in tune was an achievement, Sawamura-san.”

Yaku blinked at her. “Your middle blocker? You play, do you?”

“Uh-huh. Well, I did,” Michimiya replied, smiling as he sat next to her. “I was captain of the girls’ team. We ...uh ... we weren’t as successful as the guys.”  She laughed deprecatingly. “Can I ask you something, Yaku-san?”

“Sure.”

“Who’s that guy in the corner with the mohawk talking to Tanaka? He was kinda staring at me earlier.”

“Don’t worry about him,” Kuroo muttered, leaning on her chair. “He’s harmless. He’s an idiot, but harmless.”

 

“You were in a dress, man! A freaking dress. And what was that wig?”

Ryuu scowled and ran a palm over his head. “I was playin’ a girl. It’s like a tradition, or somethin’. Men play the girls in this, and a girl plays the Prince.”

“Huh? Your Setter ain’t a girl.”

“No, he switched in,” Ryuu tried to explain, but he could see Yamamoto’s attention wavering, his eyes flicking around the hall, focusing in on a group of girls opposite, one with light brown hair tied high in a ponytail.

“Can ya introduce me?”

“Uh ... I could,” he muttered, and chewed his lip. “But ... uh ... Hoshi-kun’s sorta ...mean.”

Yamamoto stared at him in awe. “You’ve spoken to her.”

He shrugged. “Kinda. She ... uh ... thinks I’m dumb.”

“Whoa, dude. Amazing... that you know her. She’s pretty. ” His jaw which had dropped open, clamped shut as he frowned, bemused. “But don’t Shimizu-san think ya dumb, too?”

“No.” Tanaka snapped. “I mean, yeah, maybe, ‘cause maybe I am dumb, but she don’t look down on me for not being smart, just ... uh ... you know... bein’ an idiot.”

“Uh ...” Yamamoto shook his head, then ran his palm across his Mohawk, angling his face so he was side on to the girls.  “I don’t get it. Maybe it’s cuz you wore a dress. Chicks don’t really get that.”

He stopped speaking, and looking over his shoulder, Ryuu could see why because Oikawa had walked in with Iwaizumi, heading towards the guys from Seijou, and the girls had immediately started to fidget.

“Was he the stepmom?”

“Uh-huh.”

Hoshi was staring at Oikawa, focused as if she was about to block when he stopped to wave to Michimiya.

“With all that make-up?”

Michimiya waved back at Oikawa, then carried on talking to Yaku.

“Yup.”

“And fake boobs.”

Ryuu nodded.

“You sure?” Yamamoto squinted at him, then back at Ryuu. “You’re way more manlier, Ryuu-kun.” He wriggled his shoulders, glugged some of the juice in his glass, then returned to stare at Hoshi. “So, you gonna introduce me, then?”

“Maybe later,” Ryuu mumbled, burying his face in his own glass.

“She don’t have a boyfriend, does she? Only that wise guy guard was chattin’ to her a minute ago.” His attention switched from Hoshi and the other girls to a group standing on the side by the drinks table. “He’s watching Yacchan now. Jeez, is he some kind of creep?”

Looking up from his glass, Ryuu glowered across the room. “That’s Futakuchi,” he muttered. “Hoshi-san’s cousin. He’s a ... a ...” Creep? Was he? Sure he kept glancing at Yacchan, but he hadn’t done anything, had he? Biting his lip, Ryuu remembered his sister’s words that Yachi-kun could make up her own mind. 

“He’s what?” Yamamoto asked.

“Wing Spiker for Datekou,” Ryuu continued. “Captain and Ace. He’s ain’t so bad when ya get to know him.”

 

Kenji Futakuchi, amongst his team, was someone who would never shut up. It wasn’t that he couldn’t, more that he didn’t see why he had to when he had something to say. And he always had things to say – From Sasaya-san’s dreadful taste in jumpers, to Koganegawa’s clumsiness, he had an opinion. But as the party played on, and he found himself squashed next to Kamasaki and Moniwa, he couldn’t think of anything to say. And he wasn’t sure if it was because both his senpais were praising him, or whether he was too distracted by the well of anticipation in the pit of his stomach, but he really wasn’t in the mood to sass anyone that night.

“You’re very quiet, Futakuchi-kun. Are you sad it’s over?” Moniwa murmured and tugged on his arm. “It’s a good thing you and Aone did, you know?”

“Was it?” he asked, not really bothered about the answer, but feeling he needed a distraction.

“Well, why did you decide to help Karasuno out?”

“Honestly?” Kenji shrugged. “My cousin called. I thought I’d come along to wind them up.” He stared thoughtfully across the room, noticing the way Oikawa held court amongst his team, the way Futakuchi wanted to with Datekou. “But then, he was there, clearly serious about being in the show, and it kinda seemed wrong to knock them back.”

Moniwa made an odd sound, and blinking, Kenji was astonished to see his former captain’s shoulders were shaking, and the noise emitting from him appeared to be a stifled gasp.

“Are you all right, Moniwa-san?”

He smiled up at him, tilting his head to the left.  “You’ve ... um ... grown.”

“I’m the same height.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Moniwa replied.

And Kenji chuckled. “Yeah, I know. To be honest, Moniwa-san, I surprised myself staying here, but ... uh ... they’re a good bunch of guys.” His eyes darted across the room, resting on another group - Yachi Hitoka milling around with some of the kids, her foot tapping a little in time to the music. Natsu was chattering, Takeru tugging on her arm, and then the twitchy boy, the one who’d played Dandini, shifting from one foot to another as he stood behind her with Glasses-guy.

“She’s pretty,” Moniwa murmured.

“Who?” Futakuchi’s reply was swift.

“Oh, no one,” Moniwa replied. “Um ... if you’d rather be talking to other people, Futakuchi-kun, don’t feel you have to stay with us all night.”

“Huh? Who else is he gonna want to talk to?” Kamasaki demanded, barging between them. He draped a hand over Futakuchi’s shoulder, then pulled Aone towards him, embracing the pair of them. “My two kouhais. My best kouhais, giving the Iron Wall a chance to shine!”

Bearing the attention with his usual stoicism, Aone shrugged off the arm. He bit into a cupcake, devouring it in two goes, then scowled at the room in general.

“When ya picked up that Ten, Aone-kun, I coulda cried,” Kamasaki continued. “They shoulda given ya both bigger parts.”

“We came late,” Futakuchi said, not really listening now because Oikawa was looking his way, an amused smile on his lips.

In his mind, he could still hear his taunts, and those of Hoshi, but even though they could well be right, and he was just a rival captain with a smart mouth, he was also – as Kamasaki and Moniwa never ceased to remind him –part of the Iron Wall.

_And we don’t give up, not when there’s a sliver of a chance,_ he thought. _Even when the ball is nearly on the ground, we still dive for it._

A blast of sound from the opposite corner shook up the room, and twisting that way, Kenji saw the piano guy, Kino-something – he’d never really caught his name - sliding behind a table where he’d placed a music deck. He was grinning, giving Ennoshita a thumbs-up, and then the music got a little softer, as he leant towards a microphone.

“Party starts now,” he announced. “Any requests, let me know, or else you’ll be listening to my playlists all night.” 

Her foot was tapping faster, he noticed. She danced well on stage, the kind of dancing that wasn’t stiff, or over practised, but still smooth. Natural. Genuine. 

_Okay, Kenji, go for it!_ He twisted away from Kamasaki’s hand, and took a step forward, trying to look for all the world as if he was casual and not at all bothered about the outcome. Maybe he should be subtle, edge over there, see how the land lay before he asked her, but then he might lose his nerve.

Kenji looked across to the little kids, noticing Hinata’s sister had clasped Yachi’s hand. Maybe he could ask them both to dance. That could be cute. And meant there was no pressure.  He chewed the side of his mouth, pondering what to say and then another song started.

It was one of his favourites (despite professing to dislike the singer) something he thought fitting given the evening, and the fact that despite the shared experience, they’d all segregated themselves into their teams as soon as the play ended.

And he was halfway across the room, when before he knew it, someone had bundled towards him, linking his arm, and pulling Kenji to dance floor.

“What are you doing?” Kenji demanded, trying to extract himself, but Oikawa’s hand gripped tighter.

“We’re the outsiders, Futa-chan, no chance at all with these guys around, but ... uh ... this song, it’s very much ours, don’t you think?” Oikawa breezed.

“What?”

‘ _I stay out too late._  
_Got nothing in my brain._  
_That’s what people say, hmm hmm.’_

 “ _That’s what people say, mmmmmm,”_ Oikawa crooned.

_‘I go on too many dates_  
_But I can't make them stay_  
_At least that's what people say, mmm-mmm_  
_That's what people say, mmm-mmm.’_

“Oikawa, what are you talking about?”

 “Haters gonna hate,” Oikawa hissed. Then laughed. “Oh, come on. No one on Seijou’s team will dance, and if I ask one of the Karasuno girls, Monk-chan will thump me. Or you will.”

“Ask Hoshi,” he replied, pulling away. “I won’t hit you.”

“Hmm, but she might get the wrong idea,” Oikawa replied, and winked. “I do only want to dance.”

“Why me?”

“Because _you_ can keep up, Futa-chan.”

There was a cheer from the Datekou boys; he could see Kamasaki gurning at him. And in the opposite corner, the group of Karasuno first years had stopped talking. Maybe they thought a fight was about to ensue (which Kenji wasn’t entirely sure wasn’t wrong) but not a fight with fists.

“Dance off, Oikawa-san?”  He smirked, because the one thing he knew he could do was move.

_“‘Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play,”_ Oikawa sang, twisting his hips in time to the rhythm.

_“And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate,”_ Kenji replied, and grinned. He stuck his arms out in front of him. _“I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake shake-”_

_“Shake it off. Shake it off!”_ they sang together.

They had the attention of the room, as they both gyrated, and laughing with Oikawa, Kenji saw over his shoulder, that they also had the attention of the girls, and one girl in particular. Yachi Hitoka wasn’t only tapping her foot now, but twisting around with Takeru and Natsu attached. He smiled at her, his wide smile (which Hoshi always called goofy) and for a moment, Yachi caught his eye. But then, with a quick jerk of her head, she stared down at the floor.

Oikawa leant into him. “She’s too shy,” he whispered. “And you’re not.”

“What?”

“You’re too flashy for her, Futa-chan.”

“Lay off me!” he retorted, scowling. “What the hell do you know about it anyway?”

“You ask her to dance now and she’ll take one look and run all the way home,” Oikawa murmured, his eyes had narrowed, but not slyly, and his tone was calm. “She may have been centre-stage in the show, but in real life, she’s the type to hide in corners.”

“Why not let me be the judge-”

“Sure, go ahead.” With a grin, he stepped back. _“’Cause the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate,”_ he sang again.

“You’re trying to wind me up!” Kenji sputtered. “Same old, same old, Oikawa!”

“Nope, it’s friendly advice. Ask her now and she’ll never forgive you. Catch her another time, when there’s no audience, and she might just say yes.”

He sounded genuine. And maybe the advice was good, because Kenji knew how flustered she could get. But something still nagged at him. “How do you know?”

“Hmm?  Oh ....”He turned again, then placed his hands across his heart. _“My ex-man brought his new girlfriend,  
She’s like ‘Oh My God’ but I’m just gonna shake.”_

“OIKAWA!” Kenji yelled.

“Our other setter,” Oikawa whispered, “tried the direct approach of throwing a volleyball at her. Okay, so he was hardly subtle, but every time he looks her way tonight, she hides behind Glasses-kun.”

“Oh ...”

_“’Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play.”_

“Why are you being kind?  I don’t get it.”

_“I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake shake, shake it off, shake it off, I, I shake it off, shake it off,”_ Oikawa continued, then licked his lips. “I want a favour, Futa-chan.”

Kenji spun again on his toes, his feet in perfect rhythm with the beat, and as he did, he saw Yachi no longer looking at her feet or the dance floor, but standing a little to the left of Dandini, nodding her head at something he said.

“What do you want?” he muttered. “Hoshi’s phone number? Because I’m really not going to punch you for asking.”

“My Setter...” Oikawa said, flapping his hand. “He’s going to be captain after me.”

“Uh ... so?”

“Well, I’m a hard act to follow.” His eyes flicked up and down. “You, Futa-chan, are already Captain, and you might be tall, but you’re far less ... um ...”

“Impressive. Wow, thanks for that!” he grumbled.

“Intimidating,” Oikawa replied, not turning a hair. “You know how hard a job it is, and it’s especially hard if you don’t have someone you can talk to. Yahaba-chan is going to need that.”

“I could say no.”

“Of course you could,” Oikawa agreed. “And  I could grab hold of DJ-chan’s microphone and tell the whole world you want to confess to Cinders.”

“You asshole!”

_“I, I, I, shake it off, I shake it off,”_ Oikawa finished. “I’m kidding, by the way. But think about it, yes.”

“Why would I want to help a rival?”

“Because neither of us want Karasuno or Shiratorizawa winning again, do we?”

He laughed. “I guess you’re right, Oikawa-san.”

“I usually am,” he replied, and turned to face him. “More dancing, yes?”

“Why not?” Kenji said. Yachi Hitoka had glanced his way again, but Oikawa was right – she’d run a mile if he so much as approached her in this crowd.

***  


Yui sat on a chair by the side, watching the dancers. Kiyoko had been talking to her, but had left after being summoned across the hallway by Takeda, and was now engrossed in conversation with a very glamorous woman, who bore a distinct resemblance to Yachi.

They’d all done so very well. And the fact that she could bear no part, whatever Ennoshita had said, was leaving her more bereft than she’d thought possible. The pantomime was over, and although it wasn’t going to leave as big a hole in her life as giving up volleyball had, there was a blank space all the same.

“Hey, cheer up, Micchan.”

“Sawamura-san,” she said, lifting her head to meet his steady gaze. “I’m fine.”

He shot her a quizzical look as he crouched down by her side.

“I remember that look,” he murmured. “You had it at Junior High that time you sprained your wrist and couldn’t play.”

“I’m kind of accident prone, aren’t I,” she said and sniffed. “Dumbass tripping on my scarf. I’d have liked to have been a part of this.”

“You were,” he replied. “Having you in the audience calmed the kids down, and ... uh ... Hoshi stopped complaining.”

“Not to mention it gave me and Hajime something heroic to do,” chimed a voice from behind Daichi.

Suga, carrying three drinks on a tray, lowered himself carefully to the floor and smiled up at them. “I liberated some sweets from Saeko-neesan’s gifts to the kids.”

Her lips twitched and her fingers rifled through the pile until she selected a chocolate bar. “Hospital food is appalling. I need more of this stuff to keep me going.”

“We’ll remember that,” Daichi said. “We’ve got a bit more time now, so ... uh ... if you want visitors.”

“I do,” she replied, and her eyes flickered over his shoulder, scanning the groups watching as Oikawa and Futakuchi led the dancing. “Anyone can visit. I’m so bored.” And then she groaned. “I hate to say this, but I have to get back soon. Three hours is pushing it.”

“No problem. My car’s outside,” Suga said.

“I can get a taxi.”

“Nope.” Daichi got to his feet. “We’ll get you there.”

“You guys have this party to attend.”

“We’ll come back,” Daichi replied, gazing around the hall, his eyes staying on Ennoshita as he joked with Narita and Nishinoya.  “I don’t think they’ll miss us in the slightest.”

Holding out his hand, Daichi helped Yui to her feet, propping his arm under her shoulders.

“You’ll have to carry her,” Suga advised. He began to walk to the door, twirling his car keys in his hand. “But don’t you want to say goodbye to everyone first?”

_Do I?_   she wondered. But there was a stab of tears prickling behind her eyes, and she shook her head. Saying goodbye would mean it really was all over, yet again, and she couldn’t quite face that yet. “Quick exit, please, Suga-san.”

Nodding, Daichi crooked his arm under her legs, sweeping her from the room without a backward glance.

_It’s over,_ she thought, and stared firmly ahead.

***

“Will you stop jumping around?” Kageyama grumbled. “That’s the third time you’ve knocked my drink.”

“Huh?” Shouyou stared up at him. “I’m dancing. Why are you standing so close if you’re not, dumbass?”

“You’re not on the dance floor,” Kageyama persisted and scowled. “If you want to dance, then you should move.”

Shouyou snorted, gulped some of his water, and scanned the room. The music was loud and catchy, and he guessed he wouldn’t mind dancing, except he knew he was clumsy and with the Grand King currently in residence with one third of the Iron Wall, he was a little terrified of being trampled underfoot.

“Stop twitching!”

“I’m restless,” Shouyou explained.

“Then dance!”

“Nah, would rather do something else,” he said, and peered up at Kageyama. He waited for him to finish his juice, waited for the idea to form in his head, and then added, “How about it?”

“Now?”

“Why not?  Asahi-san’s got the keys, I saw Daichi-san give them to him.”

“Just the two of us, though?”

Shouyou wrinkled up his nose. “Uh... maybe not. I’ll ask Kenma. And Lev’ll play. So will Inuoka.”

“That’s five of us.” He frowned. “ _If_ Kozume-san will play. I thought you said he hates practise.”

“Uhm ...” Shouyou swallowed. “Then ... why not ... uh ...”

“What?”

“Those guys!” Shouyou declared and stepped back out of Kageyama’s reach.

“Which guys?”

“Scallion head and Curtains hair,” he squeaked and held his breath.

Kageyama didn’t blink. He didn’t move, not even to slap Shouyou around the head. Instead, he stared across the room. “You ask,” he said at last.

“Cool!” He grinned widely, then twisted his head around to where Kenma was slouched against the wall, psp in hand. “Kenma?”

“Huh?” He glanced up, his eyes flickering from Shouyou to Kageyama.

“Volleyball, practise game in the gym. I was gonna ask Lev and Inuoka, too. Wanna play?”

“Not really,” he muttered and shrugged. “Got games coming up all this week.”

“It’s quieter than here,” Shouyou continued, adding with guile, “And ... uh... we’re thinking of asking some of the guys you might be playing against.”

Kenma considered, narrowing his eyes. “I’ll keep score,” he conceded.

 

Hajime tried not to laugh when Hinata crept up to the group. He’d taken a circuitous route, avoiding Mad-Dog and Mattsun, sidestepping Makki to plant himself firmly in front of Kindaichi. He stumbled with his words, laughing nervously, then cleared his throat.

“Wannplayloevlyball?”

“What?” Kindaichi shook his head, scowling but not with anger, more miscomprehension.

“Lovly... uh ... volleyball?” Hinata repeated, his voice cracking. “Some of us are going to the gym now. And ... uh ... we kinda thought you and Curtains ... um ... I mean Kumini-kun.”

“Who?”

“He means Kunimi,” Hajime whispered, desperately trying to straighten his face. “He’s asking if you want a game.”

The scowl deepened. “Why would we want that?” Again, Hajime realised Kindaichi wasn’t the least bit angry, just confused.

“Uh ... well ... we need players, and it’s only first years, and I can’t see Tsukishima wanting to play, or Yamaguchi, although he might if I ask him, but then he’s looking kind of content over there. Oh, and we have some of the Nekoma guys here, and ... Gah, they’re really awesome. Like Lev, he’s this half Russian guy who’s really tall, so getting past him’s kinda hard, and Inuoka-kun’s got this great jump and-”

“Nekoma, you said? The Tokyo team?” Yahaba interrupted. He glanced at Hajime. “Don’t we have a practise match scheduled against them?”

“Yup, think so. You might even get the four of us to play, Yahaba-kun.” He glanced at Kindaichi. “I think what your next Captain is saying, Kindaichi-kun, is that this could be really useful.”

Pursing his lips, Kindaichi nudged Kunimi who in turn arched one eyebrow and shrugged. “’Spose so,” he murmured. “Better than watching Oikawa-san dance.”

“That’s your senpai you’re insulting!” Hajime protested, slapping him around the head. “But yeah, scram before he drags you onto the floor, too, Kunimi-kun!”

He chuckled as he watched them leave, Kunimi his hands in his pocket following Kindaichi and Hinata. Along the way, Chibi-chan rounded up some other guys – one the tall blond and the other an eager kid with large puppy dog eyes. Kageyama was at the hall door, standing next to, but not exactly with, a shorter kid, whose eyes didn’t stray from his phone. And then, as they met up, Kageyama inclined his head to Kindaichi and Kunimi, refusing to look away.

“Uh... excuse me?”

As a group they turned, and as a group they saw someone else standing there, shuffling his feet and glancing back over his shoulder to the group from Datekou, their former captain urging him on.

Watching them, Hajime grinned and nudged Hanamaki. “Looks like someone else wants in on the action.”

Hanamaki peered across the hall and smirked. “That’s the setter from Datekou, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, Kogane-something. Nekoma probably have a game against them, too.”

“And that’s their Libero going over, too,” Hanamaki pondered. “Maybe Watari should go.”

Hajime shook his head. “Leave it as first years. They’ll have more fun without their senpais.”

Snorting, Hanamaki clapped him on his back. “You’re getting soft in your old age. Come on, we should join Oikawa on the dance floor before he makes even more of a tit of himself.”

He shook his head. “You go ahead. I’m going to ... uh ... sit this out,” he murmured.

But as the rest of Seijou began to dance, Hajime’s scan of the room did not produce the result he’d wanted. Picking up another drink, he downed it in one, then wandered out of the door leading to the car park. Suga’s car had gone, he realised and now he thought about it, he hadn’t seen him or Sawamura for a while, either.  He kicked at a stone, sending it scudding across the courtyard, then sat on the steps and gulped at the night air.

“So this is where you’re hiding, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime didn’t turn. He gave no sign he even knew Oikawa was there, and didn’t look up when Oikawa sat next to him.

“Your hands are blue with cold,” he chided. “You should come inside.”

“I’m fine. Just thinking,” he muttered gloomily.

Oikawa let out an extended sigh, drawling to a close and flopped his head onto Hajime’s shoulder. “I was woefully miscast, you know.”

“What?”

“As the Wicked Stepmother.”

“Uh ... why are you moaning? Or are you fishing for compliments? You brought the house down in there.”

“I should ...” He paused dramatically, “I should have been the Fairy Godmother.”

“Get out of here!” Hajime scoffed.

“It’s true. I’ve helped Futa-chan, and now...” He fumbled with something under his jacket, producing an object with a flourish. “Ta-da!”

“It’s a shoe,” Hajime snorted.

“Not _a_ shoe,” Oikawa countered, and gave him a smirk. “It’s Yui-san’s. It must have slipped off.”

“So?”

“Don’t shrug like that, Iwa-chan. And don’t scowl at me. I am actually trying to help, you know.”

“Help who?”

“You, of course.” He sighed again, then dropped the shoe in Hajime’s lap. “Whosoever this glass slipper fits ....”

“What?”

“You, Iwa-chan, are even more infuriatingly dense than poor Tobio. This is a shoe. It is Yui-san’s shoe. So tomorrow you are going to take it to her.”

“Oikawa!” he protested.

But he’d got to his feet and was walking back to the hall. “It’s your turn to be Prince Charming, Iwa-chan. At least you know how to smile.”

***

Chikara was standing in the corner, flicking through his phone when Futakuchi approached him. He smiled automatically, the way he’d been smiling all evening, then waited for whatever joke was heading his way.

“Anything good?” Futakuchi asked, gesturing to the phone.

“Photographs,” he replied. “There are some good ones of you and Aone-kun.”

“May I?”

“Sure.” He handed the phone over, and leant back against the wall, watching as Futakuchi poured over the picture. “Thank you.”

“Uh...” Futakuchi looked up. “What for?”

“Um, primarily not for pissing around too much, but also ...” Chikara inhaled deeply. “Hinata told me it was your idea to improvise.”

“Ah, yeah...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Hope it didn’t throw everyone too much.”

“It made Kageyama laugh, so ... thanks.” He sucked in his lip. “Was that your intention?”

“Yeah, it was,” Futakuchi admitted, his fingers slowed on the camera roll, as he stared down at one picture.

“Good of you to think of him,” Chikara murmured. “And the production.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I am that noble.” He grimaced.

Peeping over his shoulder, noticing a flash of blonde hair as Futakuchi began to hurriedly scroll again, Chikara smiled to himself. “Whatever your motive was, Futakuchi-kun, I’m still grateful. And ... uh ...”

“Hmm?” He handed the phone back, staring directly at Chikara.

“If I’d known how good you were at singing and dancing, I’d have cast you in a bigger part. As it is ...” Chikara trailed off and leant back against the wall.

“As it is, what?” Futakuchi demanded.

“As it is, I shall bear you in mind for next year, yeah?  You’ll be around, won’t you?”

He snorted, and suddenly Futakuchi’s wistful, lovelorn expression had left his face to be replaced with a devilish grin. “I’ll have to say no, Ennoshita-kun.”

“Huh?  Didn’t you have fun?  You looked as if you were having a –”

“I’ll have to say no,” he interrupted, “because _next_ year I’ll be the one directing to raise money for Nationals. Fancy being my Dame?”

A laugh erupted from Chikara’s belly, rich like velvet. “See you on court, Futa-chan.”

“Yeah, I’ll be the one slamming past your blockers.”

“And I’ll be the one receiving your spikes,” Chikara countered.

“In your dreams,” he taunted, and then he sighed and his tone changed from mocking to serious. “Would you, though, be in a production if Datekou put it on?”

“Uh...” Chikara swallowed. “I’m far more at home behind the camera, or backstage, but ... look, if the _unlikely_ does happen, then, I’ll help in any way I can.”

Clicking his tongue, Futakuchi took a step away, heading back to his friends. “It’s a deal.”

“You have to win first!” Chikara called after him.

“We will,” he yelled over his shoulder.

Such certainty. Or was it bluff? Maybe both.

“He’s very confident,” said a voice behind Chikara.

He didn’t turn, not immediately, because he recognised their sensei, and the smell of tobacco wafting towards him indicated his coach was there, too.

“He has to be confident,” Ukai muttered. “That’s the job of the Captain. Don’t ya think?”

“One of them, yes,” Chikara agreed, and slipping his phone back into his pocket, he twisted towards them. “Thank you both for your help and support.”

“It was our pleasure,” Takeda replied, and inclined his head. “Not that I think you needed us. You did an admirable job and as Daichi-kun said, it was you that pulled the whole thing together.”

“Led from the front, when ya needed to,” Ukai agreed. “And let ‘em get on with it, when ya thought best.” He clamped a hand on Chikara’s shoulder. “That’s the mark of a good Captain, Ennoshita-kun.”

“You think I’m up to it?”

Both men laughed, Takeda’s chuckle so infectious that Chikara felt his shoulders jiggle in response.

“You handled your team. Troublesome first years, rowdy second years, and even harder – giving orders to your senpais,” Ukai began. “You also took on the Iron Wall and Seijou’s Grand-King. I kinda think Captaincy’ll be a breeze after all that.”

“Really?”

 “Time to step onto the stage, Ennoshita-kun,” Takeda said. “And not slip behind the curtains.”

He breathed in, watching as Noya and Tanaka dragged Narita onto the dance floor, exhorting Kinoshita to turn the music up. Heard the excited babble as the first years crashed back into the hall, faces alight with the thrill of the game. From the looks of them, it didn’t matter who’d won, because they’d played for kicks and not glory. And in the far corner, Yachi was nodding at something Tsukishima was telling her, while Yamaguchi was sitting cross-legged on the floor, letting Natsu decorate his hair with paper flowers and straws.

_My team,_ he thought. _And whatever happens next year, win or lose, we’re in this together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally written for a Secret Santa gift for someone on tumblr, who I think has deactivated (I hope it wasn't because of this). The original recipient wanted a general story without romance, and I was heading that way, but Yui is such a beautiful character, Oikawa is a flirt, and Hajime is so broodingly handsome, that there were dynamics and sparks flying before I could stop them. And I don't know how Futakuchi developed his crush on Yachi, except that she's utterly adorable and I think he'd feel like he wanted to protect her. But the point of the story isn't any romance but friendship and team dynamics, so I think I stuck as close to the brief as I could. (And the shippy part of this is very mild, anyway). If you squint, however, you might see one or two other ships. 
> 
> I'd like to thank Megan and Isy for cheering me on every time I've tentatively mentioned finishing this.
> 
> Finally, I must take a bow and close the curtains on this story. I doubt there will be a sequel in this canon, although Datekou putting on a show is extremely tempting...


End file.
